


My Pleasure

by LunaFaye



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Anal Fisting, Attempted Sexual Assault, BDSM, Ball Clamps, Ball Weights, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Choking, Class Issues, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Deepthroating, Dildos, Dubious Consent, Electricity Play, Enemas, Exhibitionism, Fisting, Fucking Machines, Homophobic Language, Light Bondage, M/M, Mentions of War, Mentions of death by Snuff, Poverty, Prostitution, Safer Sex, Sex Education, Violet Wand, Voyeurism, Wax Play, gagging, mentions of disease, past parent death, vampire gloves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-11 06:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3317087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaFaye/pseuds/LunaFaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a war torn future, Chris Pine lives destitute, until he finds illicit employment with a boss he's never met. Before he can begin he is sent to Zach Quinto to learn the tricks of his new trade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chris fingers the business card in his hand, again reading the name: Zachary Quinto, SC and a cell phone number. Unlike most business cards, this one is a thin plate of brass with the name and number punched out of it. They signify the owner’s means, a sign of privilege and expectation whenever they’re flashed around.

Even so, Chris is cautious; if he didn’t know better he would think it was fake, but this is the real deal, not a slip of oxidized tin. The fake ones are thicker and have a grainy feel to the finish, and they don’t have the essential chip embedded inside. He’s heard stories of those unlucky enough to follow the trail of a fake business card; guarantees of wealth and grandeur only to wind up dead with several major organs missing.

Licking his lips, Chris hesitates a moment, then holds the business card to the small scanner on the apartment door. Number 31. At least it would be if the three wasn’t hanging by a single screw upside down. He’d been expecting a more high class address, not some pathetic, run-down apartment block in the middle of The Flats. Although it makes sense the guy would want to lie low given his vocation.

Besides, after everything he’s been through to get this far he doesn’t think it’s all to end with his death. He’d been given the card by the people surrounding his new boss, someone he’s never met but now apparently works for. Or will be working for once his training has been completed. Again Chris wills himself to stay, fighting the urge to turn around and get the fuck out of there. But the money promises to be too good to ignore and his need for it is too great. This is his chance for a better future—even if his new job title is ‘Toy’.

The door opens, a tarnished chain restricting it and an intense pair of dark eyes, framed by wicked brows, stare at him through the gap.

“Mr Quinto?” Chris asks swallowing to try and settle his nerves. The occupant doesn’t answer, but one eyebrow rises: _More information, please_. “My name is Chris Pine, I was sent to you to, um… it’s a condition of my employment that I come to you. I was told it had all been arranged.” He holds up the business card and sees the flicker of recognition in the watchful gaze.

The door shuts, the chain jingles and it’s opened again, wide so Chris can enter. It’s a little brighter inside the apartment compared to the gloomy hallway. A large window frames a view of the myriad apartment blocks that make up the region all know to be The Flats. A shriek draws his attention to the massive TV blaring out some sort of game show. Chris never watched them much unless they were the more intellectual kind that asked questions about history and science. These days it’s more about how many poisonous snakes you can swim with before you start panicking and how much raw, decaying offal you can consume before puking. The one that’s showing is the latter version, but it could just be on for company. Chris used to do that himself before he had to sell the TV so he and his family could eat.

Though the apartment is small it’s beautifully furnished. In the one main room there’s a sofa and coffee table, a glass topped table in the meals area and lovely tall bookcases stuffed full. It’s surprising to see so much new furniture considering the address. The paint isn’t fresh, but it’s neither faded nor peeling and the carpet seems closer to only being a few years old instead of ancient and almost threadbare.

And it’s clean, clinically, which was the main thing Chris had worried about. Had there been any type of refuse strewn about he’d have hightailed it outta there. In spite of his own paltry circumstances he strives for a standard of cleanliness.

“Down payment?” says Zach.

“Oh sure,” says Chris sizing him up while he reaches into his pocket. He’s tall, and mostly made up of arms and legs that are clad in a thin tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare, showing elegantly long toes that, like his arms, have their fair share of dark downy hair.

“They know I only accept cash. None of that virtual crap, and definitely not eCredit. That shit will fucking burn you.”

“Got it,” says Chris withdrawing a thick wad which he reluctantly places into Zach’s hand. He feels decidedly queasy having relinquished so much money. Zach fans it out, and Chris knows he’s checking it’s real and not a couple of hundreds hiding a pile of lesser denominations. The sickening tug in his gut gives a yank when Chris considers the amount he’s just handed over. It’s been in his possession for less than twelve hours, having just left the diner after his shift the night before, and got the fright of his life when he was approached. As he clutched his heart, a guy in a long trench coat pushed a stuffed envelope against his chest along with the business card and told him to front up to apartment 31 on the 16th floor of block D3 at 9:30am the following day. Chris had taken the cash home and with trembling fingers counted it out; all hundreds, all out of sequence and not an identifying mark to be seen, though the notes themselves were not new.

He’d been tempted to simply keep it; all the problems the family faced would have been so easily solved with the bundle of cash he held. But it wouldn’t have taken long for the authorities to find him, and the fact of the matter is he would never leave his family to run, and had they spent any of it his mother and sister would be left to deal with the consequences. He can’t afford to go to jail. The prisons these days are crammed full, but most crime is dealt with on the spot and usually fatally.

While Zach counts, Chris glances around the apartment. It’s definitely not what he’d expected; this is obviously Zach’s home. Where do the lessons take place? He sees there’s a separate bathroom and stares wistfully. It must be nice to have a hot shower whenever you feel like it, and be able to go to the toilet without having to first check for sharp objects, like used syringes, or broken glass. The Flats aren’t exactly the low end of real estate, but the further out from the City of Independence, the more dilapidated the apartment blocks become. Hastily built and constructed on the cheap over the ruins of what was once Los Angeles, their purpose was to house the thousands of displaced after the war, but the buildings on the outer edges of The Flats are doggedly crumbling to dust. Beyond that there’s the cobbled together dwellings made from the ruins of suburban houses where Chris lives with his family. A delightful place affectionately referred to by the residents as the Styx. It’s not quite Hell, but it’s damn close.

Zach pulls out and unfolds a piece of paper then shows it to Chris. His signature is scrawled along a line at the bottom under several paragraphs of tiny font. “That you?” Zach asks.

“Yeah,” says Chris remembering how he’d briefly read the contract, several more pages than the single Zach’s holding, before grabbing the pen and signing himself over to his employer.

“I was assured that you would be discreet and keep your mouth shut. That true, Mr Pine?”

As part of his employment Chris is not allowed to breathe a word about his new job to anyone. No one must know what he does for a living. He knows it’s for his own protection really, yeah, they’re doing _him_ a favor. If the law found out he’s well aware his employer would use him as a shield, and he’d be the one to take the fall. Money protects the wealthy, silence protects the impoverished. “Please call me Chris,” he says. “And yes, you have my word; I can’t afford to lose the job.”

“Good,” says Zach. “Just so you know, there was a guy that tried, Chris.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s no longer with us,” says Zach flatly, but Chris can see the shimmer of regret in the dark eyes. Though on first impressions Zach appears to be stern and hardnosed, Chris wonders if the guy does in fact develop a fondness for his students.

“Got it,” says Chris. He’s seen it happen, witnessed how the law deals with those who try to bend or break the rules. He quickly learnt to look away, but the sound of a gunshot is hard to block out, let alone forget. In an effort to curb the rampant spread of disease, the powers that be decided to stamp out solicited sex, but in truth it’s probably more prevalent now than it’s ever been. The more laws they try to enforce the more ways people manage to elude them. The porn industry was driven underground and though he’s seen several of Karl’s black market movies, he’s also been involved in illegal practices himself to keep his family fed. Prostitution in any form is not tolerated; hence his need to be silent, but even before he got the job it’s never been too much of a stretch for him to accept a few dollars to blow a guy or let them fuck his ass; whatever it takes to get food on the table.

“We may as well get started,” says Zach. “Go have a shower, there’s toiletries and a wash cloth,” He looks Chris up and down. “Be thorough.”

“Of course, Mr Quinto,” says Chris, and walks past his host to the tiny bathroom. It’s immaculate. Either Zach’s one fastidious son of a bitch or he never uses his own bathroom. The tiles gleam and there isn’t a hint of mold or mildew anywhere. Even the toilet seems to sparkle.

He lathers himself with the soap and wash-cloth while relishing the hot steaming water. Fuck, it’s been ages, he’s so used to the furious scrubbing he hurriedly gives himself under a tap that only issues freezing cold water. He pays particular attention to his cock and ass by washing and rinsing both twice, and shaves his face with a brand new razor. Then he washes his hair, again twice, and enjoys the feeling of having the blissfully warm water sluice over his body. He towels off, making sure creases and crevices are moisture free, appreciating the big fluffy towel that doesn’t prickle against his skin. There’s a robe that looks brand new, it’s plush and probably cost a fair bit. At first he’s unsure, but eventually he pulls it on and with a last look in the mirror, goes back into the main room.

Zach’s watching TV when he returns, but turns it off when he sees Chris is ready.

“Your employer will be expecting a well-trained, but above all, obedient Toy by the time you’re finished here. Are you familiar with the particulars of his needs and desires?”

“Some, not all,” says Chris.

Zach nods. “Good. You’re being honest, which is a welcome change, and at least you read the fucking contract. I can’t abide potential Toys who think they know it all and then completely freak out the minute they’re strapped in place and the nipple clamps come out.”

Chris stiffens at the mention of nipple clamps, having seen them in use, but he doesn’t say anything. They’d been listed in the contract along with several other kinks he was to prepare for.

“Take off the robe,” says Zach. “I need to have a look at you.”

Chris licks his lips, looks down at his bare, but scrupulously clean feet before taking a breath and dropping the robe. He watches Zach’s face and tries to discern if it’s appreciation or curiosity when his eyes rake over Chris’s naked form. He can feel the heat of humiliation wash over his ears and neck, flooding his cheeks and collarbones. Zach steps up to him, and takes his chin in hand, tilting it to one side. His fingers are cool, soft, but his movements are firm. He traces a line down Chris’s neck, places both hands on Chris’s shoulders, smoothing across them before coming down both arms to assess his biceps. He’s close enough for Chris to feel the soft touch of his breath against his chest. Zach slides his hands across it, over his pecs, brushing against nipples that immediately harden. If he gets any redder, Chris is sure he’ll fucking combust.

“Nice,” says Zach softly, then circles him, his hands always touching, assessing, pressing and squeezing. Chris’s ass is cupped, lifted, the cheeks pressed together and then spread slightly. A finger runs down the crack and Chris shivers at the touch, heat reigniting his neck and face. A hand is pressed flat against the middle of his back, indicating that he bend forward. The warmth in his face heightens and he spreads his legs a little, leaning his hands just above his knees. The cheeks of his ass are pushed apart, further this time, and he squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying not to clench when the cool of the apartment touches his hole. Chris prays the floor will suddenly collapse when he feels Zach’s finger probing, nudging around his ring, but it isn’t breached.

Zach comes back around the front and Chris straightens, but Zach crouches, and this time it’s Chris’s cock that gets the attention. Chris swallows hard and tries to focus on something else while his dick is lifted, the weight of it determined and then it’s given a few experimental tugs. “Good,” says Zach. “Responsive.” His balls are cupped; Zach’s fingers separate his nuts, checking and feeling. It reminds him of the few visits he’s had at the clinic. His doctor has always been fastidious when it came to his health. She would sweep his objections and embarrassment aside then scrutinize his dick for any sign of disease.

He’s already had a blood test and his saliva swabbed by his employer’s cronies in accordance with the conditions of his employment. All came back negative, which moved him onto the next stage – the Sex Coach. His taint is probed, forcing the breath from his lungs. When Zach straightens, Chris’s dick is half hard and twitching. Zach hands him the robe, which he thankfully pulls back on.

“Do I pass?” says Chris.

“You need to wax,” says Zach, he pulls out his phone and appears to be texting, or making notes. Chris stares at it hungrily. What he wouldn’t give for a fucking phone! It would make his life so much easier when trying to find work. The government was quick to reestablish the phone lines, but the phones themselves are appallingly expensive. After the war, phone companies changed tack, wanting upfront payments instead of lengthy contracts that weren’t necessarily honored. “I’m making an appointment for you for tomorrow morning,” says Zach. “Crack and sac at least, and I’ve put you down for a little man-scaping. It’s not necessary, but your employer will appreciate it.”

“Sure,” says Chris uneasily. The very idea of having hot wax anywhere near his balls and asshole is enough to kill his semi.

“Have you ever had an enema?”

“Pardon?” says Chris. Sure he’s heard of them, but he can’t remember if it was a kink on his employer’s list.

“An enema, using water to clean out your bowel,” says Zach simply.

“Oh, um, no.”

“In that case you need to start, regularly, but not daily, that can fuck up the plumbing.”

“Right,” says Chris the hairs on his head prickling with budding humiliation.

“I’ll take you through to the training room,” says Zach, putting the phone away again.

“Training room?” says Chris. Where’s that hiding? Zach’s line of work, though known in certain social circles, is nonetheless still illegal. Chris had thought that the apartment _was_ the training room, but Zach goes over to a portrait hanging on the wall next to a bookcase. He swings it aside and Chris sees it hides a small numbered keypad. Zach types in the code and Chris hears a soft beep and a click as a lock is released. Zach then goes to the bookcase next to the tiny kitchen, and opens the whole thing like a door.

“This way, I’ll show you around and you’ll have a better idea of what I’ll be teaching you.”

Chris follows Zach into the adjoining room and is surprised to see how big it is. It must take up the rest of the floor, but he’d seen doors to apartments outside. They’re obviously fake so people will think the apartments continue rather than protecting one very large room.

The floor is covered in big, black rubber tiles. There are mirrors across the walls and some on the ceiling, making it seem even bigger with several strange looking apparatus located around like a gym. One wall has a display of what look to be medieval weaponry, there are chains hanging from the ceiling, chairs with holes in the seat, a horizontal platform with cuffs to restrain arms and legs and cabinets with glass fronts that hold a bright array of objects. Chris thinks they’re butt plugs and dildos, but there are feathers, handcuffs, a few gags and various probes and implements that he has no idea as to the use.

Zach shows him around, giving vague descriptions of what a few of the contraptions are used for, and at what stage of training they’re likely to be used in.

“Before each session I will explain exactly what will happen,” says Zach. “You have the right to refuse, but you won’t with your employer. You gave him your full consent when you signed the contract. It’s far better for you to spend the time we have learning and understanding as much as you can. There’s nothing worse for a Toy than an expectation you haven’t been at least made aware of.”

“Right,” says Chris softly. A lot of it looks painful, well beyond the ache of a quick fuck with minimal prep.

“Everything we do here I’m doing to prepare you for your employer. Whatever he wants, asks, demands, you will have no choice but to perform, okay?”

Chris nods. “Am I likely to be injured?”

Zach seems to pause at the question. Maybe his other students haven’t been so concerned about their own welfare. “On occasion,” he says. “But you will be taken care of, and given time to heal. You will never be subjected to broken bones, or internal injuries. Any occurrence will be purely superficial.” Chris can feel Zach’s eyes on him, watching as though trying to gauge Chris’s reaction. “Having second thoughts?”

“I never stopped,” says Chris. “But I can’t back out, I -”

“No,” says Zach firmly. “You can’t.” For a moment they just look at each other, Chris tries to see some semblance of empathy, or even sympathy, anything to make Zach seem less clinical and more human. He’s pretty sure Zach’s waiting for him to beg for release. He’s undoubtedly seen it before, novice Toys taking one look at what they’re expected to do only to start pleading for an escape clause.

“I was told I have two weeks training. When did you want to start?” asks Chris, giving himself a mental high five when he sees the surprise on Zach’s face. It’s all very well for the guy to think he has the upper hand, but dammit, Chris has mettle, and fucked if he’s going to allow himself to be intimidated by a stuck up sex worker.

Zach touches his lips with an index finger, his arms folded across his chest. Chris knows he’s still assessing him, determining his worth, that surely at some point Chris will crumple. “No time like the present,” Zach says.

“What did you have in mind?” Fuck it, he can survive two weeks of this douche. Anything to get through the training and onto the serious money making.

“You can blow me.”

Ha! Too easy. Chris knows his way around a dick, having been attached to the end of one all his life. Sucking one off is hardly a challenge. “Sure,” he says giving a cocky smile. But then he sees the corner of Zach’s mouth lift. Fuck. _Guess this will be more than just a straight up head job._

“Where do you want -?”

“Right here,” says Zach. His arms are still folded across his chest and those eyes glare at Chris, waiting for him to get on with it.

Chris feels his hand clench into a fist. So the asshole wants a fucking head job, fine! He breathes, kneels and reaches for Zach’s waistband. He maintains eye contact, no way is this arrogant asswipe going to psych him out of a job that will not only pay for Katie’s medicine, but could very well see his family moved into one of the more upmarket apartments in The Flats.

“Shouldn’t you get me in the mood first?” says Zach when Chris moves to pull down his sweatpants.

“I have little doubt my employer will _always_ be in the mood,” says Chris staring back. He sees a flicker of something cross Zach’s face, whether it’s the sight of him kneeling compliantly on the floor, or the fact that Chris has given a smart-ass answer, he’s not sure, but Zach takes hold of his jaw and Chris can feel the pressure of his fingers.

“Suck my cock, Toy,” says Zach. Chris hauls down Zach’s sweatpants and underwear in one swift yank to reveal his dick surrounded by a thick dark bush. The mandatory grooming mustn’t extend to those doing the teaching. The length of Zach’s cock, though flaccid, is impressive, but it’s hardly a thing to worship. Chris takes hold and pulls in long slow strokes. And like any man’s dick he feels Zach begin to respond, the gradual thickening with each squeezing pass.

Of course the fucker isn’t giving him anything by way of how he really feels about it since Zach’s expression doesn’t change. He just watches, those dark eyes burning holes into Chris’s retinas. It’s no different to the men that pay him, although the rubber tiles are a lot more comfortable than unyielding concrete.

_Just blow him_ , he thinks, then they can move on and he can get stuck into the more serious stuff. He opens and is about to take in the head. “Uh, uh, uhh,” says Zach. Chris looks up and sees a foil packet in his sightline. “As clean as you may be, I intend to stay that way too.”

Chris immediately shuts his mouth and pulls back, snatching the rubber and tearing it open. Fucking idiot! Never in his life has he had unprotected sex; it’s what’s kept him STI free all these years. The clinic hands rubbers out for free, prevention is better than cure! And his doctor is always very firm with him, insisting he use them or she would be treating him for far worse than a common cold. The clinic also gives free healthcare thanks to the ever aspiring government, but more often than not, the medicines prescribed are so damn expensive it isn’t even worth being diagnosed.

Condom in hand, Chris takes Zach’s cock in the other, stroking it firmly to bring it to full hardness. Dammit, now his Sex Coach will think he’s an inexperienced naif; not the impression he was going for. He refuses to let the blunder overshadow his performance; this _has_ to happen, or he’ll be waiting tables the rest of his life. He licks his lips, bites the bottom one and flicks the longer hair of his bangs out of his eyes before glancing up at Zach from under his lashes. He shrugs out of the robe to expose his shoulders then licks his lips again for good measure... Bingo. It’s good to know he has _some_ influence on the seemingly formidable. He rolls on the rubber, smoothing it down the shaft with short repetitious strokes. He’s not sure, but he thinks he hears a soft grunt from above. He wonders about Zach’s sex life and whether he gets a lot, or just the occasional hook up with his students, much like he is now. For a moment Chris actually feels sorry for the guy. In circumstances that are not all that dissimilar to his own, they both have sex from a need to make a living. There’s no room for meaningful relationships. What’s the point if you’ll only have to see the look on your sister’s tired, gaunt face when you tell her there’s no dinner tonight?

Chris is used to the artificial taste of condoms, and in spite of their necessity he learned fairly quickly that a lot of delicious sensation could be gained from stretching thin latex over sensitive skin. He fists Zach’s cock at the base and pulls the condom down, stretching it across the head. Zach seems surprised, groaning a little, his legs shift, though they’re restricted by his bunched up sweatpants. With his tongue Chris fiddles with the loose pouch of wrinkled rubber at the tip, toying with Zach’s slit and that’s when a hand finds its way into his hair. Trying not to smile he’s hopeful maybe, just maybe, he’s managed to break through the wall of ice surrounding his teacher. Otherwise it’s going to be a long two weeks.

Opening wide, he slides his mouth down the length, stopping when the head nudges the back of his throat. It’s an impressive size and the last thing Chris wants is to choke on it and reinforce the ideal that he really is a complete novice. The majority of his back alley hookups are quick fucks, but there’s no shortage of eager cocks wanting a suck. When he started out, Chris tried to bring them to orgasm as quickly as possible, but soon found if he took his time and seemed to _care_ about how the guy might like it, the orgasm came along fairly quickly anyway. It often worked in his favor too, with a few extra dollars beyond his usual fare.

“Take all of me,” says Zach flexing his hips, pushing harder. Then there were the demanding ones. The ones that liked a little discomfort in Chris’s expression when they fed him their cock as though shoving a sausage through a mail slot.

Chris wants to swallow, but can’t with Zach’s thick cock pushing at his throat. It’s not like he hasn’t given deep throat before either, he’s just usually in a lot more control, in spite of the occasional asshole, which enables him to psych himself up, and prepare himself to receive it.

“Come on,” Zach urges, his voice soft. “Show me you can.” He takes hold of the back of Chris’s head and begins to seriously shove in. Chris tries to breathe, fails, and in the process his throat opens, admitting Zach in. He thrusts forward and Chris instantly gags.

Coughing, Chris pulls back, in spite of Zach’s firm hand keeping him in place. He at least manages to get in a breath before Zach’s dick is again demanding entrance. He closes his eyes, grasps the backs of Zach’s legs and forces himself to relax. Sucking air in through his nose Chris opens, slides forward, and feels the head push past his gag reflex. This time, thankfully, he’s in control again, he can manage this.

“Fuck yeah,” says Zach. “Mm yes, take it.” Chris isn’t sure if he’s just being considerate but Zach’s movements are slow, his hands either side of Chris’s head as he fucks his face, his cock sliding in and out of Chris’s aching mouth. Chris feels his own saliva running down his chin and dripping on his chest where the robe is open. He holds on, trying not to move lest he gag again and make a fool of himself. He can feel the tears well and gradually squeeze out from the corners of his eyes. He wants to breathe, but can only suck in quick gasps between thrusts. “I can’t believe how well you’re doing,” says Zach, stroking Chris’s cheek with his thumb, wiping away a tear. “Most Toys choke and beg not to have to do it again. But you, oh God, you’re just taking me beautifully.”

Chris looks at him, at those eyes that don’t seem to want to let him go. He can see Zach’s mouth working, his lips tightening, then being caught between his teeth until he eventually does look away and with a grunting sigh Chris feels his cock pulsate in his mouth, the condom catching the jizz that would otherwise shoot down his oesophagus. It’s been a long time since Chris tasted come. Years.

Zach pulls back and Chris falls forward onto his hands coughing and breathing hard to regain the loss of oxygen. If Zach was trying to be mean he’s fucking achieved it. Although Chris is pretty sure a lot of what’s going on here is to test him and see if he really can cope with what’s expected of him. He coughs again, wipes away the tears and strings of saliva on the sleeve of the robe then sits back on his heals again.

“Now do I fucking pass?” he says croakily.

Zach pulls off the rubber and ties it off, then pulls up his pants. “With a little work I think your employer will be very pleased. You’re willing to please and comply with demands.” He goes over to a garbage chute and disposes of the condom.

“The job description says to do as I’m told. Hardly rocket science.”

“No, but what I’ll be taking you through will certainly be a test of your endurance, your strength and your resolve. You’ll be asked to do things you won’t want to do. We have to make sure you do them anyway.”

“Yeah,” says Chris stretching his jaw to try and ease the ache. “Your will is my command, Mr Quinto.”

“Not my will Chris, your employer’s,” says Zach and Chris is a little startled when a hand is offered to help him up. Maybe there is some feeling behind the hard task master. “And I think you can call me Zach now.”

“Sure.” Since he was practically force fed the guy’s cock, why not get onto a first name basis.

“I’m going to be hard on you,” says Zach and for the first time Chris catches a glimpse of the compassion he’d been so hoping was there. “But I think you have the potential, Chris.”

“You’ve known me all of five minutes,” says Chris. “What makes you think I won’t bolt?” It’s certainly crossed his mind about a million times already.

Zach regards him cynically. “I really don’t think you will,” he says. “You’ve done everything I’ve asked of you so far; without question or complaint. I can see you struggling mentally, but I know you’re not going anywhere.”

Chris opens his mouth to argue, the fuck does this guy know what he’s thinking, but the point is there _is_ no argument. He needs this job and if Zach thinks he’ll make a good Toy, then what’s there to dispute? He shuts it again, looks Zach in the eye and simply nods.

Zach smiles back. “Let me show you something,” he says and Chris follows him over to one of the glass fronted cabinets. “Do you see that there?” he says pointing to a life size model of a man’s hand and forearm, with the hand clenched into a tight fist. Chris knows its purpose, having watched in fascination at one of Karl’s movies when one was being used. Shit. “I keep it as a reminder of your employer’s power. Though I haven’t ever used it, you will be expected to take my fist up your ass.”

So much for a gentle introduction, but then the blow job was hardly a warm and fuzzy hand over. Even so, the sight of the fisting dildo has fired off several points in Chris’s abdomen. He takes a deep breath, unable to take his eyes off it. “Really?”

“The last Toy I tried to fist did his best but wasn’t able to accommodate me. He didn’t listen to what I told him to do and he failed. I don’t know what happened to him but if it’s anything like the stories I’ve heard about what _can_ happen, he’s living off the street, diseased and dying, if not already dead.”

“Jesus,” Chris whispers. If Zach’s trying to scare him it’s worked. In fact, Zach is watching him carefully as the callous remark sinks in. Guess he needs to know if the warning has hit home or not.

“You may think you’ve solved all your financial problems taking on this kind of work, but you need to keep it real, man,” says Zach. He holds up his hand and suddenly it seems very large and intimidating. “Do you think you can take that fucker?” he says, gesturing to it by a quick jerk of his head.

“I don’t know,” says Chris. Zach’s fingers are long, like a pianist, the palm wide and flat. He shivers when he tries to imagine it working its way into his ass. _Fu-u-ck_.

Zach drops his hand, again looking at Chris as though waiting for him to run screaming out the door. “Good answer,” he says and leans against the cabinet. “If you do _everything_ I tell you to the letter you will be able to take it—” He holds his hand up again and wiggles his fingers. “—and a lot more. Being a Toy isn’t just about being sexually obedient; it’s also a testament to your own mental strength. If you think you can, chances are you will.”

Chris glances at the fisting dildo, then back at Zach. “You’re a mentor for us too aren’t you, as well as a teacher?”

Zach shrugs, “I’ve seen so many fail and very few succeed. We may have only just met, but first impressions account for most of my gut instincts. I trust my gut, it’s never let me down, and it seems to think you’re worth my while.”

Chris nods. “I seriously can’t fail, man. If I do my family will be the ones to suffer.”

“In that case, the sooner we get you prepped and working the sooner you can look after them,” says Zach. “I want you back here tomorrow after your appointment, and we’ll begin with a session of yoga.”

“Yoga?”

Zach nods. “Yep, flexibility is paramount and it helps with the mindset. One thing I need you to do Chris is trust me.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Hopefully your best is good enough.”

Zach takes him back through to the apartment where Chris is able to brush his teeth, have a cool drink of water and get dressed back into his own clothes. They feel old and putrid after the clean robe. Zach opens the door and Chris exits, the dank hallway a prelude to the reality he knows all too well.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Chris says his hands shoved in his pockets as he begins to walk away. “And thanks.”

“My pleasure,” says Zach before closing the door.

 

Chris flexes his neck, glances up and sees it’s already dark out, then gets back to collecting the dirty plates from the booths and tables of the diner. The tips are scarce, one being a couple of screwed up notes – two singles – the fuckers. His job as a waiter for the night shift at a local diner had been his second job until he was laid off from the factory. The tricks he pulls in his free time aren’t exactly regular, but the few dollars it gets him help nonetheless. It had been his job at the factory that had guaranteed the family regular meals.

Katie’s illness only seems to be getting worse and his mom simply doesn’t have the strength to work, even if she could get a job, which is next to impossible for most people, let alone those living below the poverty line. She does her best finding old knickknacks in the piles of rubbish that surround the Styx to do up and sell at the Switch ‘n’ Trade, a market place established by the poorer classes where patrons can exchange goods for other items or currency. But in spite of her efforts, Gwynne isn’t always able to make a sale. It makes Chris angry to think about the war and the situation it landed them in and the fact that it tore up his family, and took with it his home, his way of life, and even his father.

He takes the dishes through to the kitchen and dumps them on the sink. Karl, his hands covered in thick gloves, is emptying a giant dishwasher, stacking the steaming dishes in the rack before he starts on the next load. Karl’s lucky, he gets a wage. It’s nothing special, in fact it’s close to miserable, but unlike Chris he at least gets paid. Chris has to rely on tips; no tip, no pay.

“You look like shit, Pine,” says Karl swiping damp hair off his forehead.

“Thanks,” says Chris. “I’m just tired.” Because he had to get up earlier than usual to go see his new Sex Coach. He can’t get the image of the giant hand dildo out of his head. His ass puckers in reflex.

“Thought you were laid off,” says Karl. “You’ll have all the time in the world to sleep.”

“I still have to find work,” says Chris. He hasn’t told anyone about his new job as a Toy, but while he’s training he isn’t getting paid. It was pure chance the opportunity had presented itself. He’d been waiting on a guy dressed in a smart suit who looked very out of place in their humble establishment. Though Chris had tried to shake the feeling he was being watched, it became apparent that he was since the guy handed him a card and said if he wanted to earn decent money to give the number on it a call.

He’d been cautious and had ignored it as best he could until he and his mother had to rush Katie to the doctor and spend the last of their meagre savings on medicine for her. After explaining who he was to the woman on the phone he was instructed to take the Express downtown to the Enterprise building, a tall office block in the city’s heart. Newly constructed, it had been financed by the company’s heavy weight – Chris’s new employer. ST Industries was a thriving company in foreign markets. After the war it bought billions in crashing cash markets, only to recoup big time when society eventually managed to get back on its feet. It was an insane risk, but paid off massively. Then he went through the piles of rubbish and eventually found some relatively decent second hand clothes that he was never likely to wear again, but which would hopefully get him through the front door of the building.

He’s never seen his employer, never been introduced; everything was handled by his efficient staff who were polite if a bit stand-offish. He remembers standing naked in front of a large mirror for what seemed like a very long time before the doctor came and gave him a thorough physical. He’d been too terrified to be embarrassed; in fact the whole experience is more of a blur when he thinks about it.

During the entire process he would talk himself out of it, then remember the money and stay for the next stage of the interview. He was made to come in front of that mirror, though he’d been shielded by a discreet curtain, then his jizz was collected in a small plastic cup that was whisked away for whatever manner of testing they wanted to do with it.

Fingers probed and touched and squeezed. He was asked to bend over and a lubed-up finger gave his prostate a quick poke. His teeth were examined, his tongue flattened with a depressor and lights shone down his throat, then into his ears and eyes. He’s not sure why Zach’s otherwise tame examination of him seemed so much more personal, maybe because he would be expected to _perform_ for Zach.

When they finally let him go he was almost late for his shift at the diner. If he had been he would definitely have lost that job too.

“What’s eating you, man?” says Karl.

“Nothing,” says Chris blinking back to the present. “It’s nothing. A lot’s going on.”

“You’ll find something soon enough,” says Karl. “And you know if you ever need it…”

“Nah man, I couldn’t,” he says waving a hand in refusal. “Thank you, but I just couldn’t.” It’s bad enough he’s already in debt to his new employer. The cost of the lessons is an investment. His employer is forking out to train him, so before he’s even made a single dime he already owes the guy; an Indentured Toy. Is there any other kind?

After his shift at the diner Chris slogs his weary way home and practically falls into bed. Both his mother and sister are already asleep; he can hear Katie’s labored breathing in the dark. He kicks off his shoes and curls up into the filthy sheets. Tomorrow he has that appointment Zach made for him as well as another training session. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep, but he does.

 

At first Chris thought it would be extremely embarrassing if the beautician was hot and he was sporting a whopping erection while they tried to wax him. It _is_ extremely embarrassing, but as for an erection, he’s surprised his cock hasn’t tucked itself into his body as far away from the dreadful pain of having the hairs pulled from his scrotum. The beautician is methodical, telling him to move and shift and hold this bit taut, and doesn’t seem to give a shit about the junk dangling around like a fucking wind chime. Chris, his face the color of red wine, does his best in spite of having his ass on display to a complete stranger. He could argue that he often shows his ass to those willing to pay for it. But it’s usually dark and gloomy, not a brightly lit salon, and his shirt isn’t rucked up to his pits and he still wears his jeans, though they’re usually just pulled down a bit before his fare is busy trying to get inside him.

He grits his teeth and jerks with each rip of wax-laden strip. There’s no counting to three, no waiting for him to be ready, just the warm sensation of wax, the firm strokes of the cloth being applied and the excruciating burn as each hair is swiftly yanked from his sensitive skin.

He’s certain he’s walking awkwardly when he leaves and his first thought is ice, lots and lots of cooling, soothing ice. He wants to bury his nuts in it and cram it along his crack, anything to alleviate the raw tenderness he feels around his man bits. He walks gingerly into Zach’s apartment and glares at the smirk that’s quickly hidden when Zach catches his eye.

“Excellent,” says Zach. “We’d best get something astringent on there and I have some creams that will help.”

“Fine,” says Chris, not caring that he’ll have to once again expose himself to the guy. But given what he potentially will have to do, letting Zach dab antiseptic then soothing cream over his tender sac seems a highlight. The cream works wonders and Chris feels a lot better, if a little moist down there. Once Zach’s done, Chris’s stomach unleashes its annoyance at having been forgotten for far too long.

“When did you last eat?” asks Zach.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it,” says Chris. His last meal was a plate of leftovers from the diner, the scrapings customers leave behind. His boss at the diner generally turns a blind eye and for Chris it’s free food. It’s a staple for his family, but it doesn’t always stretch as far as he needs it to. Zach makes him a sandwich and even gives him soda to drink. It‘s been ages since he had soda and it still tastes as good as he remembers.

“You’ll need your strength in this job, try not to skip meals. If you have to, let me know and I’ll make sure there’s food here.”

“Right,” says Chris refusing to meet Zach’s eye. He doesn’t want to be treated like a charity case, but he can’t deny there’s truth in Zach’s words. He wouldn’t consider himself weak, but he could afford to put on a little weight.

“We’ll wait a moment to let you digest, then we have a yoga session to get through.”

“Sure,” says Chris around a mouthful. With the state of his nuts and ass being as they are, he’s not all that keen on having to try and contort his body into a human pretzel.

“Trust me, you’ll feel better for it. It does demand stamina” - he points meaningfully at Chris’s half consumed sandwich - “but it’s gentle. You’ll be fine.”

Chris does his best to emulate the poses Zach demonstrates, but he’s uncoordinated, unbalanced and surprisingly out of shape as indicated by all the huffing and puffing. Yoga’s damn hard. He’s sweaty by the end which makes his newly waxed skin itch. He fiddles and adjusts and eventually asks to shower. After a thorough cleaning he uses more of the stuff Zach had put on, but forgoes the cream since the harsh red has dulled a little.

“Feel better?” Zach asks lounging in the two seater.

“Yes, surprisingly,” says Chris. He can already feel the effect of the yoga; muscles he didn’t know he had are suddenly making themselves known and his limbs feel heavy and fatigued. Be that as it may, his ball sack doesn’t hurt anymore and after the shower he feels refreshed.

“We won’t attempt anything today,” says Zach. “I’ll let your body recuperate a little, and we can try something tomorrow.”

“Sure,” says Chris though he feels a little disappointed, he’s happy to take the rest of the day off before his shift at the diner.

“Be sure to eat when you can,” says Zach. “And try at least three yoga poses before bed.”

“Yes, sir,” says Chris and feigns a salute.

One of Zach’s eyebrows rises. “Remember this is for your benefit. I wouldn’t be asking you to do it if I didn’t think it was good for you. Stamina, flexibility, and mental wellbeing,” he continues, tapping a temple with his finger. “All imperative if you want to make it as a Toy.”

Later at the diner, Chris actually sits and eats a portion of the leftovers while Karl finishes up the last of the dishes. He’ll take the rest home, but he knows Zach is right: if he’s to support his family there’s little point succumbing to exhaustion and illness simply because he’s denied himself to give them more. He’s not taking the food from their mouths, there’s still enough to share.

“I got a copy of Boobs, Balls and Buttfucking,” says Karl as he wipes his hands on a filthy tea towel. “Wanna come to mine and watch?”

Chris laughs, “Sounds classy.”

“Totally,” says Karl, hanging up his apron and giving the kitchen the once over. “Come on man, I got a couple of beers at home, and your lot will be sound asleep. You can put the food in my fridge, whaddaya say?”

“Fine,” says Chris washing his plate and fork before replacing them. Porn, beer and good company will finish his day nicely.

 

Chris paced outside the medical clinic for all of five minutes before telling himself he was being an idiot and going in. An hour later, he slinks back out, his face burning, his walk a little odd and his insides cleaner than the dirty thoughts plaguing his mind. He’s thankful he won’t have to face his doctor each time. She duly provided him with the equipment he would need and the assurance that he could easily perform an enema on his own.

“What did you want to cover today?” Chris asks after his customary shower. The yoga session was as comedic as the previous one, but he likes the way he feels afterwards in spite of his lack of finesse.

“I want you to pick out one of the objects, or apparatus in the Training Room, and I’ll explain how it works, maybe give you a demonstration, or show you how it should work.”

“Oh,” says Chris. One object hasn’t been far from his mind, has fascinated him since he’s seen it in action. “Sure.”

“Come through, tell me which one has you curious,” says Zach moving to the bookcase.

He can feel the surge of foreboding run along his spine when he steps into the room. This place will seek to break him, test him and see if he’s worthy of his employer. He asks himself again what the hell he’s doing, but when he sees the display there’s a decided clench in his lower abdomen and it’s not all that unpleasant. He walks over to the glass cabinet and points to the forearm. “You pointed it out the other day, and I’ve seen one used in a porno. Can we talk about fisting some more?” His head fills with the cries and groans of the actors in Karl’s movie, their faces displaying their rapture, mouths open, eyes screwed shut and their bodies opening around the enormous hand.

Zach smiles and opens the cabinet. He withdraws the arm and hands it to Chris. It’s surprisingly heavy and a deep shade of purple. “As you know, it’s a fisting dildo,” says Zach his arms wrapped across his chest. “Generally, fisting promotes the sensation of being opened, of having your ass spread wide and your body totally filled. Some people find it extremely arousing.

“H-how?” Chris asks. Though he’s seen it in Karl’s movie, the dudes and chicks just seemed able to accept it.

“A lot of lube and preparation. We can start with different sized regular dildos, but as I said, I’ll be using my hand. A real hand feels better anyway because it can move. In some scenarios the guy will make a fist inside then draw it out to make the stretch even wider.”

“Oh, God,” says Chris with a shudder.

Zach looks amused. “It’s all about the stretch and how much distention your employer wants. Some Toys can take a lot, others not so much.” He takes the dildo from Chris and puts it back. “Generally I cover fisting in the second week, but I will definitely be using my own hand, not just because it’s easier on the Toy, I also get a better sense of what’s happening inside.” The shiver that runs through Chris threatens his balance and he sways a little, but Zach catches his elbow, his eyes concerned. “Are you okay, do you want to sit down?”

“No, I’m fine,” he says trying to register if it’s fear or lust that’s swirling about in his stomach. “Tell me more.”

“Okay,” says Zach though his voice sounds a little dubious, but Chris hopes it isn’t because he thinks Chris will fail. “I use shortening as lubricant, the stuff that’s otherwise used for cooking. It’s sticky so won’t slide off my hand, and it doesn’t dry out as quickly as some lubricants. It’s also a lot less expensive.” Chris reaches and grabs Zach’s arm, his ass thrumming as his mind has him bent over and Zach’s arm wending its way deep into his ass. “Prep is vitally important,” Zach continues merely glancing at the grip Chris has on him. “It’s important to stretch you slowly, otherwise you could tear. Like I said, we would probably work you up to it.”

“Would I be bound?” asks Chris. The scenario in his head is taking all sorts of wild turns; strapped to a gurney, his ass protruding out and Zach’s forearm buried deep, or clutching a pole, his body lowering itself onto Zach’s rigid fist. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers under his breath.

Zach looks at him, worried. “Not usually, it helps if you can move. To begin with we’d both be on the floor, with you on all fours, but once you’re used to it we can try with you up on the platform.” He pauses and points to a corner of the room where a narrow two foot high platform is reached by a couple of stairs with a metal rail bolted to the wall. “That way you can hold the bar for balance and leverage, then I can work you at a good angle that won’t tire us both out too soon, for example when you move to sit on my fist. It’s a session that’s likely to take several hours.”

“Oh my God,” Chris mutters, his grip on Zach’s arm tightening. It’s then he realizes his cock is fully erect. Zach, keeping eye contact, cups him, massages then grips his face, tilting it to look at his eyes.

“Jesus, dude, you are seriously aroused,” he says. “That’s… very interesting. Not many Toys—in fact, I can’t remember one that’s had a reaction to fisting like you.”

Chris remembers having to squash his prominent erection out of sight when he and Karl had been watching the fisting movie in the first place. It had definitely made a connection but it comes as a shock that something so extreme is pushing all the right buttons. “I’ll be fine in a minute,” he says. “Maybe if we talked about something less sexy.”

“Everything in here is sexy,” says Zach.

Though Chris can’t object to that, he’s beginning to wonder if this stuff is seriously his thing. His fleeting fiascos in back alleys have never brought him the kind of full-blown pleasure his body seems to be responding to right now. What he wouldn’t give for Zach to just push him over, pull the robe out of the way and fuck into him. He looks around, trying to find something that might do the opposite. Near the wall of weaponry, on the floor is an open case. “That,” says Chris pointing to the case, having no idea as to what it is, but it looks medical, which surely will help douse his enthusiasm somewhat. “Show me that.”

Zach leads him to it, crouches and takes out a plastic handle that has a power cord leading from it. Nestled in carefully carved foam are different shaped, transparent tubes. Some are curved with bulbous middles, others mushroom-shaped at the tip. Zach selects one, and fits it into the handle before plugging the whole thing in to a socket in the wall. “It’s a Violet Wand,” he says. “It’s used to stimulate erogenous zones, or any other part of you for that matter, with electricity.” He flicks it on and sure enough the tubing glows a beautiful lilac color. “I sometimes like to use it in conjunction with this,” he says and takes down what looks like a collar. “It’s a dog collar to stop a dog barking. Again, it gives an electric shock, but I use it with a remote for more control. It’s totally cruel to animals, but amazing for Toys. I’ve had it modified so I can extend the shock, or change the frequency of it. I can create a short sharp bite, or a persistent thrumming pulse that ripples through you while your body seizes in the sweet bliss of prolonged agony.”

“Jesus Christ,” says Chris. “That didn’t help,” he breathes, more to himself. He palms himself wishing he could pull himself out and have at it. Wishing Zach would.

Zach replaces the wand and collar and looks at Chris with careful eyes. “Did you maybe want to try something now?” Chris nods, aching to touch himself, or better yet, have Zach touch him. “You do realize these lessons are not for your gratification, you’re here to learn so you can give pleasure to your employer.”

“I know, man, but fuck, everything you’re talking about just, I don’t know, it’s doing shit in my head.”

Zach reaches for him, forcing a grunt from the back of his throat, but he stands there, eye to eye as Zach tugs him firmly through the robe. “Fuck, dude, how hard _are_ you?”

“Very,” says Chris, closing his eyes as Zach’s hand works him. He pulls away suddenly and Chris opens his eyes. Zach’s backing off, looking about the room.

“Since you’ve already had an enema, did you want to try then?” says Zach making a fist with his hand.

“You said we’d work up to that.”

“We will,” says Zach.

God, he seriously wants it. “If we could just try,” says Chris glancing at Zach’s hand. The idea of having it slide into his ass only sends another purposeful shudder through him. “You won’t think less of me if I can’t?”

“Of course not. I’ll be impressed if you can, but I certainly won’t expect it of you. Like I said, fisting is generally reserved for week two, but we may as well take advantage of your enthusiasm.”

“Okay, then,” says Chris meeting Zach’s gaze. “Let’s try.”

“I’ll get the lube,” says Zach.

Chris tries not to look at himself in the mirrors that line the walls. He’s slipped out of the robe and checks himself, sees his naked balls and carefully runs his hands over them. The redness is gone and it feels unusual, but definitely pleasant as he fondles them, which ensures his erection isn’t going anywhere. He can’t believe that after barely meeting the guy he’s about to have Zach’s hand inserted into his ass. He clenches instinctively, but at the same time his dick thrums in anticipation.

Zach comes back with towels, a plastic tub and a few pairs of blue latex gloves. “Over here,” he says. “There’s more room.” Chris walks over, his cock swinging. “We’ll start on hands and knees; it’s a good position to begin with. Then with experience you’ll be able to explore different ways, because your employer will want more adventurous situations.”

“Okay,” says Chris then kneels as Zach organizes his supplies. Zach goes over to the cabinet and takes out three phallic dildos, each one a different size. Chris has to remember this is a lesson, not a coupling when they’re laid out, and he certainly won’t be getting a fistful of dollars for his trouble.

“For now I would also suggest tugging yourself; it can help with any pain if you’re pleasuring yourself at the same time. Just remember that will be up to your employer. If he doesn’t want you touching yourself, fucking don’t.”

“Got it,” says Chris and gives himself a few strokes. “What are the gloves for?” he asks, as Zach pulls on a pair.

“Hygiene,” says Zach opening the tub that’s full of creamy white stuff. “Regardless of the fact that you’ve had an enema, you won’t want a bunch of dirty fingernails scratching up your insides, and infection is the last thing you need.”

“Good to know,” says Chris.

“Okay,” says Zach, his voice a much gentler tone. “Bend over for me, yeah, like that, try to push your ass out a bit more, good, good. Alright, I’m going to start, if you want to stop just let me know okay?” Chris remembers the bondage movie Karl had shown him one night. He’s convinced his friend is trying to ook him out with all the extremely kinky illegal porn, but even then all Chris could do was smother his erection and try not to seem too aroused by what he saw. The last thing he needs is Karl ribbing him about his sexual preferences.

“Okay,” says Chris. It’s what he is and what he has to remind himself that he is: a Toy. He will be his employer’s play thing, something owned, possessed, and brought out to play whenever his employer wishes.

“Let’s begin,” says Zach smoothing a hand over Chris’s ass.

The latex of the gloves feels a little strange against Chris’s hairless skin. Zach licks his gloved finger and strokes along his crack, over and over, gently touching his hole again and again with his saliva. It’s soothing and Chris relaxes a little, leaning his head against his arms on the floor, his ass pointing skyward.

“That feels nice,” he says and spreads his legs further, shifting his knees which gives Zach further access to his taint and his hair-free balls.

“Good,” says Zach, cupping him momentarily before he continues stroking. Chris hears something sticky; Zach is taking out a scoop of the lubricant. “I’m going to apply the lube now, okay?”

“Okay,” says Chris and the cold creamy grease is smeared over his hole. Then the sound of slippery stickiness as Zach applies it to his own hand and arm has Chris clenching, his balls tingling. This is real, he’s about to have Zach’s hand in his ass!

“Now, I’m going to begin with two fingers,” says Zach and sure enough Chris feels them breach his hole. He winces, a slight intake of breath as the initial sting bites, but he moans when he feels them slide into him, wriggling their way passed his tight ring. Zach fucks him for a few beats, then adds a third finger. Chris clenches, feeling the slight stretch and pushes back eagerly.

Zach’s strokes are firmer and he twists his fingers around, carefully stretching Chris open. Chris moans, his back arching. “God that feels, oh God, so good,” he says, his breathing strained. Zach’s fingers reach his prostate, stroking over the gland in soft, but swift strokes.

“I’m going to start with the first dildo,” says Zach extracting his fingers, he smoothes lube over it and Chris feels it pressing against him. It’s a little bigger than Zach’s fingers, but it enters him easily, another sting as he stretches around it.

“Mm,” he grunts, shuddering a little as Zach pushes it in before pulling it back, then shoving it in again. “Fuck yeah,” Chris sighs. It’s hardly testing him and is probably not much bigger than a regular cock.

“Good,” purrs Zach, “Ready for the next one?”

“Yes,” says Chris with a nod. He grunts when Zach pulls the first dildo out, and sucks in his breath sharply when the second one pushes against him. “Oh fuck,” he breathes doing his best to relax while the much larger dildo urges him open.

“Come on,” says Zach encouragingly. “You can do it, relax for me, that’s it, that’s it, take it in.”

Chris whimpers, groans and pushes back, doing what he can to accept the larger dildo. “Ah, fuck,” he barks when it breaks through. “Oh, oh God!” he pants, but his breath hitches when Zach slides it in further. “Hmm, Christ!”

“Easy,” says Zach and Chris can hear him moving around behind him, his hands always on him so he knows where he is. “You’re doing well. Did you want to stop?”

“No,” says Chris through his teeth. He’s not sure what’s making him do this, all he knows is he has to take in Zach’s hand. It’s as though his family depends on his ability to do so. If he can’t, he’ll feel he hasn’t only failed Zach, but them as well.

“If you’re sure, I‘m going to use the next dildo, okay?”

“Do it,” says Chris and lets out a sigh when the second dildo is pulled free.

Zach pushes in three fingers, smoothing them around his distended, tortured ring. “You’re opening up beautifully,” he says.

“Ah, Jesus!” Chris shouts his legs trembling and his ass on fire as dildo number three is pushed into him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He smacks the floor, grits his teeth trying to feel his ass for the deep burn that’s radiating from his hole. He can still feel Zach’s hand on his skin, smoothing over his back and ass cheeks, occasionally tugging at his dick which is leaking profusely over the towel under him. He’s not sure if he should be surprised or not.

“Tell me how you feel,” says Zach. “Are you okay?”

“Mmnngg,” Chris moans, doing his best to try and face Zach. “Yes,” he hisses the word out, his head once again falling onto his folded arms. He yelps when Zach moves the dildo, in and out, sliding into him, though his body resists, making Zach’s effort more forceful.

“That’s it, that’s it,” says Zach applying more shortening to the dildo before he pushes it in again.

“Oh God, oh God,” Chris groans. Though it hurts, the burn only lasts a few moments. He can feel every muscle working, his body crying out in urgent need. It feels so damn good being stuffed so full and in spite of the pain he desperately wants to feel Zach’s hand inside him.

“Push, push,” says Zach gently easing the giant dildo out of Chris’s ass. “Good, very good.” Chris sighs when it’s out fully, his body relaxing in floppy relief like a deflated balloon.

“Well done,” says Zach patting his ass again. “What do you think? Ready for me?”

Chris gulps in air and feels the perspiration that’s slicked over his forehead against his arm. “Yeah,” he says. “Fist me already.”

Zach huffs a laugh his fingers forever caressing and smoothing around Chris’s loosened hole. “Okay,” he says. “Nice deep calming breaths.”

It’s easy at first, the pressure isn’t much different to the previous dildo, and he can feel himself widening until the stinging burn sets in and his teeth automatically clench together. Zach pushes in slowly, his pressure gentle, but persistent, urging Chris to open. “Oh, fuck!” Chris barks, suddenly pushing up onto all fours, and leaning on his hands. Zach begins to pull out. “No, no, don’t,” Chris says hurriedly. “Just slow, keep going, but slow.”

“How does it feel?” asks Zach.

“It hurts like a motherfucker,” Chris grunts. “But it feels so good.”

“You’re up to my second knuckle,” says Zach.

“Okay,” says Chris, his breath coming in short gasps. The burn of Zach’s intrusion is blazing around his hole. It’s an intensity like the climb of a steep peak. The reward of having Zach inside him is so close he’s riding the pain with a tangible edge of pleasure. It hurts so fucking good!

“Watch your breathing,” says Zach. “Remember the yoga.” His free hand is gliding in soft caressing circles over Chris’s back. Though it does little to alleviate the pain, it adds to the sparks of pure delight coursing through his veins like tiny threads of light.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” Chris breathes. His own hands balled up into straining fists, his cock is harder than ever and swinging whenever his body jerks. Zach keeps up the pressure, his arm twisting as Chris’s body starts to stretch over the widest part of his hand.

“You’re doing beautifully,” says Zach. “We’re nearly to my knuckles, you’re doing so well. You’re so fucking compliant.”

Chris can’t hear any of Zach’s soft murmurings. He’s panting, his breath coming out in a series of _Ah, ah, ah,_ as Zach’s hand continues to push inward. “Oh God, oh God,” Chris huffs. He can feel his legs shaking, his entire body in fact, and though it’s not hot in the room sweat beads and runs off his back and shoulders.

“That’s it,” says Zach. “Beautiful, you’re nearly there, you nearly have me.”

Chris tries to open, tries to work the muscles of his ass to somehow envelop Zach’s hand, but they’re stretched so far and so thin he can’t feel anything but the constant burn of their protest. It’s so close, he’s sure it’s right there. That small point of knowing his goal is within his grasp, but he needs to fall over the edge in order to reach it.

He tugs himself, in spite of his fatigue with the effort the rest of his body is exerting. “Oh my fuck!” he groans, abandoning his cock as the stretch radiates across his back and through his balls making him leak pre-come. “Hnnngg, oh God, please!” It’s almost overwhelming, the deep-set urge to engulf Zach’s hand; if he can just get it inside him then his ass can relax around Zach’s wrist.

“Almost, almost,” says Zach.

“Oh fuck, please, I can’t, I can’t!” Chris implores. He manages to spread his legs wider and the burn heightens.

“Yes you can,” says Zach. “I won’t let you give in now. You are so close.”

“Please Zach, please,” Chris whimpers. “I really wanna come.”

“Not yet,” says Zach sternly. “You’re almost there. Just my knuckles to go then you can relax for a moment and I’ll jack you.”

Chris cries out when Zach pushes harder, endeavoring to force Chris to accept him. Then quite suddenly Chris feels his ass claim Zach’s knuckles and Zach is able to sink his hand into Chris’s body.

“Oh, fuck!” Chris yelps as his asshole eases around Zach’s wrist; he’s still stretched, but not nearly as taut. Zach moves his hand and he shudders, the pressure against his prostate and the awesome sense of being completely stuffed full. He hears Zach scoop up more lube and feels him swiping it over his wrist. Then he takes up Chris’s cock and begins to stroke him, his hand slippery with shortening.

“This is a magical sight,” says Zach. Chris looks back, his arms shaking to support him. “Think you can take some of my arm?”

Sweat runs down Chris’s face and he can feel his skin overheating, but he nods just the same. “Do it,” he says. At the sudden surge inside him Chris almost collapses, his ring stretching again around Zach’s forearm. “Oh God, fuck!” he cries.

“You’ve made _me_ hard,” says Zach quietly. Chris wonders if Zach meant to say it out loud. He doesn’t think so since he’s the one reminding Chris that he’s a Toy. What would it matter if Zach was hard? Slowly pumping his hand inside Chris’s bowel, Zach twists it around so Chris can feel the oddly satisfying sensation of it inside him. “No one’s ever taken me fully on the first try.”

“Yeah?” Chris breathes. Looking up he can see himself in one of the mirrors, impaled on Zach’s arm, and his aching cock being tugged by Zach’s other hand. He can picture himself wearing some sort of leather strapping, the kind that would enable him to be tethered and restrained while Zach’s fist crams its way into his ass. Or the fisting dildo, thick and heavy as it is, working its way into his resisting ass. The image makes him shudder.

“I’m gonna pull out,” says Zach, “I’ll begin fisting you then, fucking you with my hand and arm, okay?”

“Oh fuck yes, do it,” Chris pleads and readies himself.

“If you feel the need to you can push me out, but let your body dictate; feel it, understand it.”

With that Chris feels Zach’s hand retreat. Just as he’d pushed in, it feels a little easier on the way out. The stretch and burn ascends and Chris groans, gripping the floor with his fingers. His body releases Zach’s hand, but just before his fingers slip out Zach pushes forward again. The burn is there, but not as intense as the first time and Zach’s hand slides back in with little resistance.

“Ah, fuck!” Chris cries shaking as his body flushes over with pleasure. “Seriously man, I’m gonna come without your help.”

“You need to learn to control that too. You won’t be allowed to come unless your employer says it’s okay.”

“God, Zach, please,” Chris groans. He tries to think of something else, anything but the overpowering deliciousness of Zach’s clenched hand pumping in and out of him. “Fuck!”

“No,” says Zach letting go of his cock. “Not yet, don’t you dare come until I say.”

Gasping, Chris stares at his fingers, taps them on the rubber tile to a disjointed melody that’s running through his head. His balls are tightly bunched and aching for release, his cock flush with the need. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates on the pounding of his body as it shunts back and forth on Zach’s arm. “Please,” he says in an almost pathetic whisper.

Zach resumes stroking his cock. “Okay, come for me, that’s it, squeeze my hand, fuck you’re gripping so hard.”

Chris keens as the first pulses of his orgasm bear down on him. His throbbing cock shoots over the towel on the floor as his ass clamps down on Zach’s hand. Zach moves it, a series of short jerks to intensify Chris’s climax, all the while Chris hollers and moans, his body seizing around Zach’s arm.

Chris tries to stay on all fours, but his arms are trembling with the effort. Zach’s hand slides out, and he removes the glove before wiping his hands and arm on another towel. Chris collapses onto his side, panting and wincing as his body attempts to recover. He manages to focus on Zach. He’s also covered in rivulets of sweat and the crotch of his sweatpants is bulging.

“Is that even allowed?” Chris asks with a grin, a weary finger pointing. “Do - do you need me to tend to that?”

Zach palms it, looking away. “No, it’s fine,” he says, standing and turning away to gather up the towels. “You need a break.” Chris’s smile broadens. So he _has_ had an effect on him. How often has such an uncontrolled reaction occurred with a student?

“I’m fine,” says Chris carefully getting back up onto his hands and knees. In spite of feeling completely wrung out, enabling Zach to finish seems a courtesy he should extend. He manages to stand, though his legs feel a little wobbly.

“You’re exhausted, and didn’t you say you have to work tonight? You definitely need sleep. Did you want to shower?” Zach asks. Chris nods, he’d like a shower, but the call of sleep is fast becoming a demand. He could probably sleep right here on the floor of Zach’s Training Room, he feels that beat. “I’m proud of you, Chris,” says Zach squeezing Chris’s shoulder. “It’s a kink not many Toys are capable of. I’m impressed you managed it so well.”

“I’m still buzzing all over from it,” says Chris, he’s still panting a little, but his breath is coming back. Christ, his ass is sore, but it’s a good kind of ache. A dull stinging rawness that reminds him of what he’s achieved. “How bad can it be if I get to feel like this in the aftermath?” He shrugs into his robe and follows Zach back out to the apartment.

Zach smiles, “It’s satisfying isn’t it? Having achieved something so full-on. Come on, let’s get you seen to.”

“Thanks, by the way, for showing me.”

“My pleasure.”

 

End of Part 1

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zach reveals to Chris a new world of kink deep in the underground of the old LA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enormously heartfelt thank you to Medeafic for all betaing and advice.

Unaware he was being watched, Chris is startled when Karl pulls him up. “The fuck are you so cheerful for all of a sudden?” he asks, his eyes glaring in a combination of worry and agitation. “What the fuck gives? You find a girl that didn’t scream when she saw your cock?”

“Jesus, Karl, the fuck? No. Sometimes it’s just good to be alive, you know?” says Chris simply with a shrug. Amazingly, in spite of everything that should be dragging him down, his heart feels light. After the session with Zach earlier he’d more or less been made to have a sleep, though he was far from being in any state to object. He woke up to the smell of grilled steak (which must have cost a fucking fortune!) and had a really pleasant conversation with his Sex Coach that didn’t go anywhere near their actual reason for being. He found out that, besides yoga and teaching the fundamentals of extreme kinks, Zach likes to read as much as he does, and even said Chris could borrow from his collection if he liked. He also found out Zach’s an orphan, which he thought was immensely sad given Zach had lost the rest of his family to the war. They kept to general topics of conversation, though it was partially Chris’s fault that the war was mentioned.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” says Karl pointing a sudsy gloved finger at him before shoving his hands back into the hot soapy water. “You fucking got laid, didn’t you?”

Wow, guess that kind of shit _is_ obvious. “Not that it’s any of your business,” says Chris diplomatically, his eyebrows raised. Though he manages to get his hands on all the porn he wants, Karl is rather too invested in Chris’s sex life. Even to the point of suggesting Chris use some of the positions they’ve seen in his movies.

“Fuck that,” says Karl. “It got your motor running, which is a hellova lot more than the usual tricks you pull in a back alley.”

“You make everything seem so crass,” says Chris. But he’s not about to let Karl bring him down. The time with Zach had been intense and the memory still sends a thrill through him; weakening his knees if he goes so far as to close his eyes and relive it.

“Getting fucked against a dumpster _is_ crass,” says Karl. “I don’t care what you gotta do to survive man, so long as you’re not stupid about it.”

“I’m not stupid,” says Chris his tone level. “And yeah, it puts food on my table, so the fuck what.”

Karl points at him again, bubbles dripping off the end of his finger. “Just don’t let yourself wind up in the ER because your dick fell off.”

“I won’t,” says Chris, backing away to escape the conversation. His doctor and Karl are the only ones who know Chris sells himself for extra dough, but even so it’s understandable his best friend is worried about him. “I always use protection, dammit.”

“Well, good!” shouts Karl through the swinging door.

Chris shakes his head. He hadn’t thought his mood was that blatantly obvious. The truth is having Zach’s fist up his ass was the most incredible sexual experience he’s ever had. He can’t help the smiles that creep to his lips when he thinks about it, or the moments when he’s just staring into space until a customer calls for his attention, jerking him out of his reverie. He’s almost ashamed Karl’s called him out on it, but dammit, surely he’s allowed to feel good occasionally during his otherwise bleak life?

He’s loaded down with leftovers when he makes his way home. His mother is sitting at the table when he gets inside, her hands cupping a chipped mug that Chris sees is empty when he gets closer.

“Hey, Mom,” he says. “Why are you still up?”

“Your sister had another turn,” she says her voice croaking with fatigue.

“Oh my God, is she okay?” His heart instantly clenches, beating all the faster for fear something has happened to Katie.

“For now,” says Gwynne rubbing her forehead and stretching her shoulders as though she’s been sitting stationary for a while. “But we’ve run out of her medicine. I had to give her the last of what we had.”

“Oh, shit,” says Chris sinking into the chair opposite.

“Language,” says Gwynne sharply.

“Sorry Mom,” the response is automatic and he barely registers what he’s apologizing for.

“I made five dollars today,” she says, the admonishment forgotten. “I sold that salt and pepper set as well as a couple of figurines.”

“It’s nowhere near enough, though,” says Chris his insides turning to sludge when he sees her shaking her head. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his tips. Again, it’s not much. “I’ll get more,” he says and goes to stand, but his mother’s hand shoots out, clutching his wrist with surprising strength.

“Promise me that you’re careful,” she says her eyes stern.

He hesitates, not wanting to admit to his own mother what it is he does to ensure there’s food and power and clean water. For an instant longer he argues with himself that she doesn’t know, that it’s impossible she _could_ know. But the look she’s giving him says everything – she knows, and that’s all there is to it.

“I’m careful, Mom,” he says quietly, and sighs. He had hoped to keep it from her. Forever. He wonders how long she’s been aware and it saddens him greatly that his mother, his sweet, kind, undemanding mother knows her only son goes out and sells himself to keep his family from drowning. “I won’t be long.”

“Not tonight,” she says squeezing harder. “You were out all day; you can sleep in your own bed tonight.” She grips his hand, clutching desperately until he squeezes back.

“Okay,” he says.

Later, he lies awake staring at the ceiling that’s a patchwork of tin and wonders how the hell he’s going to make enough money to pay for Katie’s medicine before she succumbs to her illness and leaves them altogether. He’s also ashamed his mother knows what he does. He’d really hoped to keep it from her, but however she found out he knows he’ll see that look in her eye each time he goes out. The unspoken question of where he’s going and what he’ll be doing. She knows he works at the diner and she knows he was laid off from the factory. She never questioned the extra money he would bring home in spite of only earning tips, but he’s an idiot to think a mother, especially _his_ mother, wouldn’t put two and two together.

Katie’s rattling breath permeates the dark room, grounding him to his family as the sounds of the outside nightlife resound around them. Shouts and cries, screams and groans as those that reside in the Styx live their routines and try to make a life in this otherwise pitiful existence. Though he manages to sleep, Chris’s dreams are a confusing blend of desire and hurt and pain and pleasure.

 

The following day is Chris’s day off from the diner so he’s able to spend more time at home. He fixes the roof where it leaks, mends the chair that’s threatening to fall to pieces and manages to find a working light bulb to replace the one that’s been blown for weeks. He enjoys the simple work, but as the morning turns to afternoon he tries to avoid his mother’s worried looks as he readies himself to head over to Zach’s apartment.

She makes him eat the rest of the left overs, but he insists on leaving some for her and Katie later. He wants to reassure her and admit where he’s going, but the truth is he can’t tell her about Zach and the lessons and what it will mean once he’s a fully trained Toy. For a moment he hesitates; at some stage he’s going to have to tell his mother and try to explain to her why he won’t be home as much. But rather than let the thoughts influence his expression, he smiles and kisses her cheek before he heads out. Again she clutches his wrist for a moment before letting him go.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he says softly. He’s determined to pull his family out of this life, no matter the cost.

“A mother’s allowed to worry, son,” she says. The look in her eyes is breaking his heart, but the knowledge that what he’s doing will eventually make a better life for them all is what enables him to head out the door.

It’s a short walk to the station and the Express takes him through to The Flats where he continues on past the multitude of tall apartment buildings, each in its own state of disrepair until he reaches Zach’s area where the buildings are cleaner, newer and are filled with the wealthier of the middle classes. He could see his family living here, though he’ll only be able to see them on occasion. Of course, if that were the case then Katie would be well again, and he wouldn’t be trying to think of ways to earn more money to get her medicine. Maybe after his session with Zach he’ll have a chance to scout around the area and see if he can’t pick up a customer or two.

“Hey,” he says through the gap the chain allows. Zach doesn’t even answer, but opens the door and admits him in.

“How you feeling?” asks Zach.

“Yeah, I’m good,” says Chris remembering the aftercare. Zach had been especially attentive once yesterday’s session concluded. Once he’d woken and eaten Zach made sure Chris’s ass wasn’t too inflamed, and gave him a tube of some kind of cream, which Chris had hastily applied in the bathroom before he started his shift at the diner. He stands, hands in his pockets, his body thrumming in anticipation of whatever kink Zach has planned.

“No swelling, no bleeding?” Zach continues.

“Nothing, dude,” says Chris. “I’m fine, really.”

Zach nods. “No point in me breaking you before you’ve been purchased.”

Chris huffs a laugh, “Yeah, I don’t need to be taken back as a faulty product.”

“As long as you’re fine, we’ll carry on.”

“Everything is in order,” he says. Regardless of what might happen he can already feel his cock wakening in his jeans. Memories of yesterday’s fisting session are creating waves of pleasant aftershocks in his underwear.

“Good, we’re going out tonight,” says Zach and before he has a chance to ask, Zach’s finger indicates the bathroom and Chris doesn’t need to be told to go in and scrub himself stupid. Though he’s curious, the shower helps him to relax, and even eases his threatening erection. Walking out half hard is not the impression he wants to make. A Toy who can’t control himself won’t be seen in a good light.

Dressed in the same robe, which feels freshly laundered, Chris is surprised to see an outfit of jeans, a black tee and black boots waiting for him when he emerges.

“Get dressed,” says Zach. “Not to bring you down, but your regular clothes won’t be accepted where we’re going.”

“Sure,” says Chris. He’s a little surprised to be getting dressed again, but his excitement is only mounting as to where they could possibly be going that has anything to do with him being trained as a Toy. The clothes are new; he can feel it in the fabric. It’s been a _very_ long time since he wore anything new. He’d forgotten how crisp new jeans felt.

After he pulls the tee over his head he looks up and sees Zach holding out the dog collar he’d shown him the previous night.

“How would you feel about wearing this tonight?” he asks.

“With a lead?” asks Chris. Is he actually wanting one? The anticipation of how it might feel to be physically led around strikes deep down.

“Just this,” says Zach and holds up the remote.

It’s more training, the understanding that his employer will have complete control over his life regardless of where he is. He steps forward, his hands behind his back.

“Of course I’ll wear it,” he says closing his eyes as Zach loops it around his neck, securing it at the back. It goes well with the rest of his attire, looking more like a stylish choker than a simple dog collar.

“There,” says Zach, appraising him as he stands back. “Perfect.”

“You’ll warn me, right?” says Chris. “Before you go pressing buttons?”

“Of course,” says Zach. “But I think tonight I’ll wait for you to ask.”

“Wow, I have a choice?” Is this a test? Maybe Zach’s gauging how eager he is for the job. Apathy may still see him booted to the street.

“For tonight.”

It’s not until they’re on the Express that Zach lets him know their destination.

“Ever heard of Sinners?”

Chris _has_ heard of Sinners thanks to Karl, but in all honesty he really didn’t believe the place existed. And even Karl seemed dubious in spite of him continuing to talk about it as though it were Shangri-La. Surely if such a place _did_ the authorities would be all over it and shutting it down quick smart. The journey just to get there is in itself an adventure.  After taking the Express to the city’s edge they disembark and Chris follows Zach to a taxi rank. The driver barely gives a nod when Zach says an address. When they get out again Chris follows Zach down a main street, then into a small laneway.

There’s barely a single working streetlight as they walk through the ruins of skyscrapers interspersed between great mounds of rubble. They tried to give the final blitz a name to encourage those who’d survived, but The Last Stand and Battle Los Angeles were snubbed in favor of the people’s own description of Lost Angels.  The war wiped millions from the country’s population and the wounds are still prevalent, perhaps never to fully heal. Early attempts to clean up the wreckage were abandoned once the City of Independence began rise out of the ruins. The severely reduced population turned their backs on the dismal wages offered to shift rocks, and went for better paying jobs in construction.

 Zach leads him down a partially collapsed underpass. It’s dark, but a subtle strip of dull light enables them to follow the road and avoid the piles of shattered concrete, bricks and asphalt.

Chris remembers a time when he had all his family together, and they had a house with a big garden. He thinks he was about ten when the first bomb dropped. Now it’s all he can do to keep his mother and sister safe, and if this is part of it, then he knows he has to stay open minded, strong and above all willing.

Cracked tessellated tiles and six thick pillars, though damaged, are the only evidence that this was once a significant building. Now with boarded up windows and doors it give the impression of an abandoned building rather than a well renowned club, albeit a secret one. There’s no sign, no flashing notice to indicate that the place is anything but a ruin that was once the prestigious Millennium Biltmore Hotel. Though it feels like a lifetime ago, Chris remembers it as a historical icon when the city was known as Los Angeles.

Zach stops at a double door that’s boarded up, but he knocks firmly, glancing at Chris momentarily while they wait. One of the doors is opened slowly, and if Chris thought the door looked forbidding, the man behind it looks just as impenetrable.

“Zachary Quinto,” says Zach. “Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.”

It sounds familiar. “Shakespeare?” Chris whispers. Though the war began before he finished school, he managed to find a copy of works which he’s read numerous times.

Zach nods. “My entrance code changes every few weeks or so, but it’s usually Shakespeare.”

“So, you’re telling me the only thing standing between the authorities and Sinners is a quote from Shakespeare and this guy?” he asks softly.

“Nope” says Zach and surreptitiously points upward. Chris follows the direction of his finger and sees the large bottom edge of something that appears to be hanging directly above them. He figures it’s a door, a very big metal door.

“Oh,” he says and hopes they’re allowed in because he doesn’t want to be the one standing under it should the cops come around doing a routine patrol

Thankfully, whatever it is that Zach has said seems to have been verified and the man standing between them and safety gives them a brief nod before stepping out of the way. Not once does he say anything, but then Chris doesn’t think he ever needs to.

Inside the foyer opens up like a cathedral after the oppressing gloom of broken concrete and shattered bricks. The ornate ceiling has an intricate skylight that still glows from the moon in spite of the smashed chandeliers. Signs of war are still visible as the building sheltered hundreds of Los Angeles’ citizens until they were forced to flee. The furniture is mismatched, and several of the art works have been damaged, at least those that hadn’t been stolen. Chris is well aware the place was probably looted ruthlessly. Even so, he marvels at the old world grandeur; the LA he wishes every moment he could turn back time to.

They’re given a desultory glance by several club goers, women scooting past in tight corsetry and heels, a man in leathers with a collar and lead stands firm while the young man holding the lead leans on him to adjust the straps of his heels. For the most part everyone appears to be dressed predominantly in black, but here and there shocks of color flit across the room like exotic butterflies: red lipstick, a bright pink feather boa, a lurid green dildo.

“And this place remains a secret?” Chris asks, leaning towards Zach as he whispers.

“Surprisingly the most well-kept,” says Zach, but he’s then distracted by a woman walking towards them. Chris tries not to shrink behind Zach when she stops right in front of them. Her heels make her seem immensely tall and she’s dressed in a black PVC cat suit, holding a flogger that she runs the strands of through her other hand. Her hair swings down her back and her lips are a deep blood red.

“It’s been a while Zach,” she says. “Not much business, or are the execs getting soft?” In spite of the melee behind her, she keeps her voice low which only makes her seem all the more intimidating.

“Hardly, I’ve only just been reassigned to this one. And he’s earmarked for ST Industries,” says Zach jerking a thumb at Chris. “John says Armada Limited is on the lookout, but according to Bruce Universal Star is so far satisfied.”

“Reassigned?” she says crossing her arms. “I see.”

“Don’t,” says Zach and for the first time Chris sees the smallest crack in Zach’s shell, and the sliver of vulnerability he sees worries him dreadfully.

“I’ve said to you countless times it pays to bring Toys in on occasion. They need to learn from others, not just you, that in itself can help them keep their jobs longer.” She stops stroking the flogger and lets it fall to her side, her other hand going to her hip. “What happened?”

Zach gives Chris another glance and begins to fidget like a child. “He,” Zach pauses and swipes his hand over his mouth.

“What happened to him Zach?” Her voice is level, but Chris can sense her words are about as threatening as a loaded gun. This is a trigger Zach doesn’t want pulled.

Zach struggles to answer, but eventually speaks. “He -- he didn’t work out,” he finishes lamely.

The woman gently sucks on her top lip, nodding as she does so. “I told you that -”

“I know!” says Zach sharply and too loudly since the people buzzing around suddenly look at the three of them. The woman doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch at the outburst. Zach points a finger at her, his voice thick with emotion. “He had it in him, you _know_ that. You don’t need to punish me. I’ve been punishing myself every day since.”

“Zach, calm down,” she says softly. “This isn’t the time or place.” Her eyes flick to Chris then back to Zach. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, perhaps I shouldn’t have brought it up. Were you here to teach?”

Zach takes a few breaths, but shakes his head. “We’re only here to observe tonight. Chris only started the day before yesterday. It would be more beneficial for him to see rather than participate at this point.”

The woman then looks at Chris and in spite of her previous glances; he can feel her assessing him as he stands there. She taps the handle of the flogger against her chin while sizing Chris up.

“And you’re absolutely sure _he’s_ ready for us?” she asks. “Remember the reaction Miles had when you first brought him to us.”

“He’s ready,” says Zach, his words defiant. “He’s displayed astonishing promise and has the potential to become an exceptional Toy, one who may eventually have the ability to make his own demands.” Chris glances at him, _an exceptional Toy? Make his_ own _demands?_ “Our session yesterday confirmed it, but he needs to understand his limits, and whether he’s willing to breach them.”

“I see,” she says and holds out a hand to Chris. “Zoë,” she says.

“Chris,” he says taking her hand. She has a firm grip, shakes his once and lets go.

“Welcome to Sinners, Chris,” she says. “As you’re here purely for observation it might be best if I give you a bit of a tour to begin with, then Zach can show you anything of interest.”

“Yes ma’am,” says Chris. She turns and Chris hurriedly follows after Zach, seems the tour is starting.

“Stay close to me,” says Zach.

 

Sinners is a kind of pleasure house, Chris knows, where the patrons are high paying executives whose tastes vary from soft and sweet to harsh and extreme. Each pays a fee to be a member and they can come and view Sinner’s offerings either live or in the privacy of a room upstairs. Though the building is missing several of the topmost floors, the lower half is perfectly sound.

Zoë explains there’s also the opportunity for Sex Coaches to bring in their Toys to teach. Patrons can pay to watch for a lesser amount and the Toy is given the experience should they ever be brought to Sinners with their employer.

“So, he might bring me here?” Chris asks.

“Of course,” says Zoë. “The majority of the execs on my books have Toys registered so they can bring them here to play, or show them off to their friends. Toys are a status symbol, Chris; you’re not just a means for their gratification, you’re also a talking point. I’ve witnessed many a lucrative deal over the prowess of an exec’s Toy. Your employer might wish to acquire stock, and as part of the deal you may have to come and perform whichever kink your employer’s counterpart wishes.”

“Oh,” says Chris. The contract had been quite thorough, but for the most part he is simply required to do as he’s told. Obviously if his employer tells him to obey another exec, then he’s to comply.

“I’ll take you through to the teaching suites. There’s a couple of sessions in progress, but I know the Coach won’t mind if we stick our heads in for a quick peek.”

“Who?” asks Zach.

“The Toy is new, his name’s Anton,” says Zoë. “Rachel brought him in because she was having trouble convincing him that the more extreme kinks were very necessary to learn. He seemed to think he could wing it.”

“Oh, Rachel’s here?” says Zach. “You just missed out on her,” he says to Chris. “She acquired Anton, just before I was assigned you.”

The teaching suites are the hotel’s old conference rooms. There’s a central reception staffed by two young men, both of whom smile and greet Zoë on her approach.

“Jacob, Jimmy,” she says. “Which room was Rachel booked into?”

“Two oh nine,” says one of them, since Chris isn’t entirely sure which is which.

“I’m taking Zach and his Toy Chris through for a look see. Please inform any execs that we’re conducting training.”

“Certainly, ma’am,” says the other.

“This way, gentlemen,” she says and Chris feels his stomach lurch. He’s not sure how to prepare himself for what he’s about to see, but as they walk down the corridor he can soon hear it. Loud screams of a voice begging for mercy peal through the hallway.

“Aren’t the rooms soundproofed?” asks Chris. Any new Toys coming here to learn would be quite intimidated by _that_ kind of noise. He knows as much because he _is_ a new Toy and the lurch in his stomach is getting worse.

“It’s important that you’re exposed to the full extent of what happens here,” says Zoë. “Please understand that we do not tolerate abusive behavior, but by the time Toys generally come to us they’ve already been exposed to some of the more extreme kinks.”

“Okay,” says Chris, sounding unconvinced to his own ears.

Zoë stops in front of a large sliding glass door that’s dressed with a block out curtain on the inside. The entire front wall is blocked out by the same material, giving some privacy, but doing little to screen off the noise.

“The lesson Rachel’s teaching here is one of our more extreme kinks,” says Zoë, her hand on the handle. “But from what Zach has said, you’re obviously ready to witness it.”

“I guess,” says Chris glancing at Zach. Zach gives him a reassuring smile, which oddly helps with the flutter in his stomach.

Zoë opens the door a crack and converses with someone inside. Chris figures she’s gained their approval for them to observe since she opens the door fully.

His stomach forgotten, it’s his dick that’s suddenly affected by the view. Lying in a half seated position is a young looking man, his curls pasted to his face, his hands desperately clutching the backs of his knees as he holds them up and apart. His cries are strong, but now Chris can see him he realizes they’re cries of pleasure.

Rachel, the woman standing between Anton’s uplifted legs has her hand and a good part of her arm buried inside his ass. She rubs his stomach and legs, apparently ignoring Anton’s erection while she talks in soothing tones that he’s doing well and she’s so proud of him.

Like his session yesterday Chris feels his ass pucker with the memory of having Zach’s fist inside him. He remembers the burning stretch and the satisfaction of having that fist buried so deeply in his gut.

“Oh, God,” he sighs, and feels the surge of blood flooding his cock. Rachel moves her arm in and out of Anton’s body, he’s shaking with the effort, crying out when she moves, gasping as she applies more lube – the same sticky white shortening that Zach used.

“You okay?” whispers Zach.

“Yeah,” says Chris. Another plea from Anton and Chris feels it firing in his balls and causing him to clench his hole as it spasms in response. His dick stirs and he bites his lip, making every effort not to rub at it. His mouth is dry, try as he might to swallow, the scent of hardcore sex only drags further on his wakening cock.

“The mirror is one-way,” says Zoë nodding towards the large pane of silvered glass that covers most of the opposite wall. “It enables our patrons to view the sessions discreetly.”

“They just watch?” asks Chris still unable to take his eyes off the writhing mass of human flesh.

“Yes,” she says. “As I said before they can come and view teaching sessions for a reduced fee. Some execs like to watch novices, or first timers to particularly extreme kinks. Although we do charge extra to view a deflowering.”

“Is this _his_ first time?” asks Chris nodding towards Anton.

“Yes,” says Zoë. “Rachel’s been working Anton up to accepting her fist for a while. Seems he’s overcome that hurdle.”

“Yeah,” says Chris. Not once has he been able to take his eyes off the scene. With his cock almost fully hard in spite of every effort he’s tried to rein it in, Chris tries to counter the effect. “Use the remote,” he whispers to Zach. If he can’t control it by sheer will, maybe a pulse of electricity will dampen it.

Zach looks at him and it’s clear by his expression that the Coach can see how the scene is affecting him. “Ready?”

“Yeah, do it,” says Chris. His body jerks, his muscles clenching to sudden stiffness as the voltage fires through his body in a mass of tingling shockwaves. There’s no real pain, the current is mild. He can feel the thrum of it in his fingertips and toes and scalp. He can’t move, can’t speak and he’s sure he’s holding his breath until as suddenly as it came it stops and he reaches, grabbing something solid so he can recover. It’s Zach, his arm firmly around Chris’s body as he breathes heavily. “Oh God.”

“How was that?” asks Zach.

“Unexpected,” says Chris. But it has the opposite effect to what he’d hoped for. His dick is now fully erect, but at least he’s able to drag his eyes away from the still screaming Anton. “Fuck, that was...that was fucking intense.”

“Love or hate?” asks Zach.

“I’m not sure.” Zach carefully lets him go and it happens again, but the sensation isn’t as intense. He grunts, moans even as the pulsing current fires through him. “Fuck,” he barks, jerking slightly. It stops again, but he doesn’t need to grab hold of anything this time.

“Interesting,” says Zoë. “Let me show you the next room. It’s not being used, but the equipment might be worth a look.” She nods a goodbye to Rachel and slides the door back closed.

She hauls open the door of a room a few doors down and flicks on the light. At the center of the room is a kind of gurney which is in a half seated position with two stirrups each covered in black rubber. In fact the entire apparatus is covered in rubber. Along one of the walls is a collection of different sex toys, and one looks familiar as Chris recognizes it as a violet wand. Varying buttplugs hang in a row, each a different shape with electrical leads coming from them. A series of gags, one of which looks like a horse bit, look clean and sanitized.

“How often is the equipment cleaned?” asks Chris.

“After every session I have a team of people who are meticulous in making sure every piece is thoroughly cleansed,” says Zoë. “Anything that can’t be is removed and replaced. Even if there isn’t a session the equipment is cleaned every day to remove dust.”

Chris nods, pleased that Zoë is just as particular about cleanliness as he and Zach seem to be.

Next to the wall of toys hangs a strait jacket underneath which is a table with a number of power boxes, again with leads snaking out of them.

Zoë walks in and taps the gurney. “This is adjustable, the Toy can be made to lie down or be on an incline depending on what the Coach wishes to do. It also makes for a better viewing since the execs can see the Toy’s facial expressions.”

“A strait jacket?” asks Chris wondering if that’s something he’ll be told to wear.

“It’s part of the play,” says Zoë. “Sometimes it helps a Toy to feel secure, or gives more power to the Coach.”

Zach is fingering the violet wand and assessing the different attachments.

“I want to try it,” says Chris.

Zach looks at him. “Really?”

“I’m going to have to at some stage, why not now since we’re here. The sooner I’m trained, the sooner I’m working, man.”

Zach turns and looks at Zoë. She’s pulled aside a curtain, running her finger along the edge of a window and tutting loudly when she peers at her finger tip.

“You’re sure? Again, this is week two stuff we’re covering. I haven’t even shown you the kinks that are, well, less intense.”

“What, like having you piss on me?” says Chris. “Please Zach, let’s try this.”

“Watersports can be extremely intense, don’t go lessening a kink’s merit.”

“Fine, sorry, shit, I’ll bawl my eyes out while you do it, but for now I want you to zap my cock, okay?”

“Zap your cock?” says Zach, chuckling. “Jesus, dude, how many times do I have to tell you this isn’t for your gratification? Besides, you have no fucking idea.”

“Well how am I supposed to _get_ a fucking idea if you’re just gonna continue preaching it’s not for me to get my rocks off? For fuck’s sake dude, what can I say; the shit going down here seems to seriously be my thing!” He stares into those deep dark eyes wondering how life could possibly be worse if he has to put up with the amount of sexual experiences he’ll encounter with his employer.

“Fine,” says Zach through his teeth. “But for insulting watersports I’m gonna make you wear the jacket.”

“Oh fuck yes,” says Chris grinning broadly.

Zoë’s surprised when Zach asks if he can use the room with Chris. He hands over the fee and Chris only just manages not to reach for his heart when he sees the amount of cash Zach gives her.

“Shall I open you to public viewing?” she asks.

“How do we know we’re being viewed?” says Chris.

She walks over to the mirror and points to a small panel near the bottom right corner. “You’ll see a green light here,” she says. “It basically means someone’s paying to sit in one of the cubicles.”

“Oh, okay.”

“There are five cubicles, and if they’re all full you’ll see five lights. Execs can also tune in and pay to watch you on the view screens if they’ve booked a room upstairs,” she says twirling a finger in the air, pointing at the ceiling. “The cameras are hidden, which makes for a better show since you’re technically unaware of them, that way you won’t be tempted to focus on them. Any questions?”

“About a million,” Chris breathes, but smiles at her in acknowledgement for the information about the cameras.

“We’ll be fine, thanks Zo,” says Zach raising an eyebrow at Chris. _Speak now or forever be none the wiser._

“I’m cool,” he says.

“If you need anything, this intercom here goes straight to the desk outside. Press the button once to let them know you’re ready and they’ll announce it to the execs. Other than that, the time is your own, enjoy gentlemen.” She leaves with a swish of the flogger and the click of her heels. Chris has decided he likes her.

“How did you want to start?” he asks Zach.

“Yoga,” says Zach. Though he rolls his eyes, Chris follows Zach’s routine as best he can. It’s triggered some part of his brain since his body seems to associate the yoga to be the beginning of something erotic. When they finish he’s so ready to climb on that gurney and have Zach do unspeakable things to his dick and balls.

“Let’s warm you up,” says Zach as he scans the various tools and toys that surround them. Then we’ll test your resolve.” He goes over to the table and checks the power boxes.

“You know how to use all this stuff?”

“Yep,” says Zach. “And how it can make you feel amazing or writhe in complete agony.”

“Just don’t fucking electrocute me,” says Chris one hand swiping over the rubber padding on the gurney.

“No, it won’t be as bad as that,” says Zach. “But now that I think of it, in this situation a safe word might be appropriate. I’ll still push you, but given this is week one, I want to give you the opportunity to call the shots now, but when we come back to it you won’t. Okay?”

“Sure,” says Chris trying to think of something suitable. “Any suggestions?”

“Something short and sweet that you’ll easily remember,” says Zach. “Colors are popular, or something you won’t have too much trouble saying through a gag.”

“You’re going to gag me?”

“Eventually.”

“Oh,” and his dick squirms in his pants. “How about Coach?”

“Coach it is,” says Zach. “Take your clothes off and get on the gurney, we may as well begin.”

Chris strips down and climbs up onto the cold rubber. He lifts his legs into the stirrups since there’s nowhere else for them to go and immediately feels his asshole exposed. Before he walks over, Zach goes to the intercom panel and hits the button to let the reception desk know they’re ready to be viewed. Then he comes over and Chris looks up at him in anticipation. _Here we go again_ , he thinks.

Zach adjusts the gurney, lifting it so Chris is in on an inclined rather than lying down. “Ready?” asks Zach stroking his hair. It’s comforting and Chris is able to relax a little.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

“I’m going to begin with the collar,” says Zach. “Just a few different frequencies. Let’s see what your body likes.”

“Shu-” is all Chris manages before the current is flicked on and his body tightens and tingles. It’s not so bad that he’s in any pain, it’s more the shock of having his entire body rippling with current. Zach’s in his sightline, watching him carefully, gauging his reaction. He’s holding the remote and Chris sees him move his thumb over it. The current intensifies, Chris’s nipples pinch and his cock jerks, he can feel every hair on his head and his arms and legs. His toes curl and his jaw clenches.

“How does that feel?” asks Zach.

“Fine,” says Chris through his teeth. When Zach turns it up again, Chris jolts on the gurney, his limbs seizing with the shock. “Fuck,” he breathes finding he has no control over his body whatsoever. It suddenly stops and he relaxes, his breathing a little heavy. “Oh fuck,” he sighs.

“Bit of a difference?” says Zach.

“I’ll say,” says Chris. He wriggles on the gurney, shifting his legs in the stirrups and passing a hand through his hair. “Wow.”

“Again?”

“Yeah,” he says nodding. This time Zach ramps it up to the full extent. Chris barks in shock, his body instantly contorting and becoming immobile. “Fuck!”

“Breathe,” says Zach. He tries to, but it takes a lot of effort to try and force his lungs to move. He whimpers as he pushes the air out. “Come on,” says Zach. “You’re not piking yet are you? How far up your throat is that safe word?”

“Fuck off,” Chris grits out. His head is buzzing, his body completely overcome with tingling prickles that dance and pierce into his skin like millions of tiny needles. Zach shuts it off and again he flops against the gurney. “Fuck,” he sighs, his arms splaying outward. He can feel sweat beading along his hairline, but it’s his cock that has him impressed. Hard and erect and twitching for more.

“Think we need to start this show, don’t you?” says Zach. He places the remote down and goes to the selection of gags. “Ball or horse bit?”

“Horse bit,” says Chris thinking he’ll be able to say ‘Coach’ a lot more easily around a tube of rubber than a ball. Zach has pulled off his t-shirt, giving Chris that lovely view of his chest and biceps. He slips the gag over Chris’s head, fitting the rubber ‘bit’ between Chris’s teeth before pulling the straps tight.

“How’s that?”

Chris gives a thumbs up, he doesn’t want to sound like an idiot in front of the high paying execs since the gag will only hinder his speech. If he does in fact need his safe word he won’t be caring how it sounds.

“Now, since you were so interested, let’s give it a try,” says Zach going to the wall and taking down the violet wand. He plugs it in and Chris watches the sculpted glass glow iridescent purple. He begins as Chris’s feet, bringing the wand close enough to generate a spark, before it gently taps his skin.

“Ah!” says Chris around his gag. He jumps, the sudden bite of electricity making him lurch. He wants to control his outbursts, but it’s almost impossible as Zach continues to touch him over and over with the wand: up his leg and over his hip, along his flank and across his chest. He barks allowed when Zach touches his nipples, the burst of current feeling a lot stronger on his sensitive flesh.

“And now the cock,” says Zach.

“Ah, AH!” Chris yelps doing his best to jerk away as the sharp pulse hits his rigid dick. He huffs around the gag, trying to relax only to begin crying out again when Zach touches the wand to his hairless balls. “Hngahh!”

“Since I’m not hearing a safe word I believe this could become a potential favorite,” says Zach, again bringing the wand down onto Chris’s tingling cock.

“Ah!” he cries, glaring at Zach and reaches for the wand.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” says Zach jerking it out of reach. “That’s not playing nice.” He turns, and unplugs the violet wand, returning instead with a pair of nipple clamps that have electrical leads attached. Under his arm is the strait jacket.

“Now, let’s see if this will make you behave.”

Chris frowns at the jacket and tries to convey as much disapproval in his look towards Zach, but the thought of being so completely controlled gives him a rush.

Zach however, seems to understand the look of impertinence. “You tried to stop me, that’s against the rules,” says Zach. “Now I have to ensure you can’t move.”

It had been more reflex than intent, but Chris resigns himself to Zach’s decision, aware that he doesn’t exactly _have_ a choice anyway. He winces when Zach attaches the clamps to his still stiffened nipples, then holds out his arms so Zach can slide on the strait jacket and tighten the belts around him. He straps him to the gurney, a leather strap across the chest so he doesn’t fall, and two for each leg to hold him in place; one around each thigh, and one around each of his shins.

“Comfortable?” Zach asks.

Chris nods, he feels secure and almost cozy tucked in the jacket and though he’d prefer to move his legs, he’s far from, the overwhelming fear of being tied up.

“Okay,” he says and holds up a bottle of lube. “This first, then we’ll continue.”

It’s cool against his hole; Zach’s fingers are thorough as they smooth the lubricant over Chris’s ass. Two fingers are pushed inside making Chris gasp, but he does his best to relax so Zach can spread him open. Then he feels something heavy and blunt being pushed against him. He takes a deep breath; Zach is pushing something into his ass. He figures it’s some kind of buttplug, it’s cold and feels like metal.

“Good, very good,” says Zach. “That’s it, you can take it.”

Chris grunts when the plug breaches, then Zach is pushing it in, the freezing length of it sliding into his warmth feels amazing as he stretches around it. Then his ass shrinks back around the thinner neck, before Zach pushes the plate of it up against him. It feels heavy lodged as it is inside him. There’s a tugging sensation and he frowns in confusion.

“Just plugging it in,” says Zach when he catches Chris’s look. “Ready? I’m going to turn it on.”

An amazing, tingling warmth spreads around his hole. It encompasses his nuts and travels down his legs, which begin to tremble in delight. His cock responds by leaking pre-come and he groans, long and loud behind the gag.

“I’m gonna turn the heat up a little, I want to find your limit, then we’ll try it in conjunction with something else.”

Chris whimpers a little when the soothing warmth starts to become hot and the tingle ascends to a serious buzzing.

“Good boy,” says Zach. Chris hadn’t noticed before, but Zach is wearing a pair of latex gloves, black ones which Chris thinks are in keeping with the whole Sinners theme. Zach pulls out a long rod, an electrical lead clamped and taped in place at one end. “Ever seen one of these before?” he asks. Chris shakes his head from side to side. “It’s called a sound,” says Zach. “I’m going to push it down your urethra and once it’s switched on you’ll feel the pulse of it down the length of your cock.”

Chris swallows, but nods his understanding. If it’s anything like the buzz in his ass, _fuck_.

Zach dabs a generous glob of lube to the tip, rubbing it down and around the end of it. “Easy,” says Zach picking up Chris’s dick and lining up the slender rod.

Fascinated and horrified, Chris watches as the metal gently stretches open his slit. He thought it would hurt, but instead he’s surprised by how erotic it looks sliding into him. He can feel his dick distending around it, the penetration in itself pleasurable before Zach even switches on the current. Zach slowly strokes him, easing the sound down into his dick.

“Watch your breathing,” says Zach. “That’s it, nice and easy.” And there it is, his dick impaled on the long shaft of metal. Chris hears a click and suddenly he can feel a strong tingling pulse running along the length of his cock, on the inside. It’s both strange and amazing with the buttplug zinging in his ass.

“Mmm,” Chris moans against the gag.

“Oh yes,” says Zach. “Almost forgot.” Chris jerks, his arms straining inside the jacket when Zach turns the nipple clamps on and twin bursts of fire zap into his aching chest.

He grunts, as he labors to gasp in air.

“Breathe Chris, remember to breathe.”

He can only grunt again and  chokes out a low moan, his body writhing on the gurney. His dick and ass succumb to the pulsing surges. “More,” he manages to gasp.

Zach is gently holding Chris’s dick so the sound doesn’t rest against his stomach. “You want me to turn it up?” Zach asks and Chris nods. When the throbbing intensifies to a faster, stronger strobe Chris twists in his bindings, his focus on the mounting heat that’s surging through his body.

He cries out and begins urgently thrusting his hips against Zach’s hand that’s still holding his cock.

“Gratification Chris,” Zach warns, but he doesn’t remove his hand, instead he adds a little lube and squeezes him. Chris jerks harder when his flesh is pushed against the thrumming sound in his dick. “Don’t come, don’t you dare come,” says Zach.

Chris can only whimper, but he eventually manages to slow down. Zach turns down the frequency, and carefully removes the sound. Chris feels spasm after spasm as his dick releases it, but it isn’t long before Zach is trying something else. Though out of his line of sight, Chris can feel Zach twisting something into place. It grips each of his balls, before circling around the shaft of his cock until it’s hugging tight just under the ridge of the head. His breathing becomes a series of short gasps when Zach turns the current on.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Chris cries, the flow of electricity pulsing over and over around his nuts and head of his cock. His legs strain against the bindings, jerking in rhythmic spasms. He watches Zach checking over each electrical toy, and at one point pressing his fingers to Chris’s throat to check his heart rate.

Unable to find the release he craves Chris’s cries have dulled to a constant moaning tempo, the charge firing over and over like the strongest of heart beats, strong enough to cause pain.

“You’re doing so well,” says Zach. “Can I turn it up again?”

Chris nods. He can feel his energy flagging. Though it hasn’t been for long, his entire body feels as though it’s been in a constant clench ever since Zach switched the collar on.

Chris screams when a surge of harsh, sparking heat rushes through him. His lungs gasp for air, his teeth bite into the horse bit so hard he can feel the rubber beginning to give. He struggles on the gurney, his legs trying to thrash though hindered by the restraints.

Zach’s face appears and Chris watches Zach watching him. “So good,” he says.

When it stops Chris is certain his body has completely deflated. He makes a loud gasping noise, his body twitching, his muscles aching. He tries to move and feels something cooling on his belly. In the last surge he’d come over himself.

Zach’s untying the gag and tugging it gently from his mouth. “You with me?” he asks, pulling his lower lids down a little and peering into his eyes.

“Yeah,” Chris says, his voice a gasping croak.

Zach removes the stimulator around Chris’s dick, then with a soft “Push for me,” takes out the buttplug. Chris can feel Zach undoing the straps over his legs, then the one across his chest. He helps Chris sit up and undoes the jacket, sliding it off and dumping it. Finally he takes off the nipple clamps. Chris sucks in a breath at the sudden bite of pain at their removal since they’d otherwise gone completely numb. Zach helps him lie back down and lets him rest.

“Fuck,” Chris groans inadvertently smoothing his hand through the splash of come on his stomach. “Aw,” he says.

“Hang on,” says Zach and Chris feels him wiping over his belly with wet wipes.

“Thanks. We still on air?” He can’t see the green lights to determine if the execs are still watching.

“No, I’ve signaled the show’s over,” says Zach. “How do you feel?” He runs a still gloved hand over Chris’s dick, lifting the wilted organ gently.

“Like Zeus had his way with me. What _are_ you doing?” asks Chris.

“I need to check for any burns. Did you bite your tongue at all?”

Chris slides his tongue around his mouth. “Doesn’t feel like it.” He had a gag after all, but Zach wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t think it was necessary.

“Good.” He’s inspecting Chris’s ass now and though Chris feels the flush of humiliation he knows he has no choice, Zach won’t let him leave until he’s completed his aftercare.

 “How’d we do?” he asks, his eyes shut against the bright lights.

“At one point I saw three lights,” says Zach. “After that I kind of forgot to check.” Chris feels Zach’s fingers on his nipples. They tighten of their own accord. He cringes a little since they’re sore and sensitive. He doesn’t open his eyes, just lets Zach continue with his examination. “Doesn’t seem to be any superficial damage. Wanna get dressed? Think you can you stand?”

“Yeah,” says Chris opening his eyes and extending his arm so Zach can help him up. He’s pleased that during the entire time he didn’t even think about the execs that were watching. As far as he was concerned it was just him and Zach.

Zach helps him to dress and it’s then he sees the prominent bulge in Zach’s pants. He doesn’t say anything, but is curious to ask since it’s the second time a session has had such an effect on his Coach. Is it the norm? Did he have the same reactions with the previous Toy, the Toy Zach seemed quite upset about when Zoë mentioned him?

His mind begins to wonder about Miles and for some reason his gut clenches when he thinks about Zach doing the things they’re doing with someone else. It’s stupid, there’s little point in being jealous for the most part of someone who doesn’t appear to be in Zach’s life anymore anyway. Though he tells himself as much, it doesn’t stop the slick of it from taking residence deep in his stomach.

“God, I feel so drained,” he says after they pass the boys on the desk and make their way back to the lobby.

“A good night’s sleep will see you right, but not until the doctor’s checked you over.”

“What? Why do I need a doctor?”

“Because I’m not one,” says Zach. “I can check for any injury on the outside, but the doctor needs to make sure everything on the inside is okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He’s worried because Zach had said he wouldn’t harm him, but even so, maybe Coaches _can_ go a bit too far.

“I’m sure you’re fine,” says Zach. “But playing with electricity can do all sorts of things to internal organs, especially the heart. I want you checked, okay? Don’t make a thing of this Chris, you’ll be seeing doctors a lot more as a Toy.”

“Fine, then,” Chris says with a sigh. “Will it take long?”

“It shouldn’t,” says Zach. “You can sleep here if you like, or I can take you home.”

“Home,” says Chris. He doesn’t want to wake up in a strange place, and though he knows she won’t say, his mother will be fretting that he’s not at home in spite of the fact that he’s a grown man and quite capable of looking after himself.

While they wait for the doctor, Zach removes the collar carefully, a gentle finger stroking over the place on Chris’s neck once it’s gone.

“Does anywhere hurt?” he asks, his fingers feather light as they run over Chris’s tingling skin.

“I’m fine, just tired.”

As promised, the doctor is thorough but quick, and as Zach said focusses on Chris’s heart. Zoë’s waiting for them when they eventually reach the lobby. At first Chris is concerned that the electricity has affected his sight since Zoë’s smiling… at him.

“Well, now,” she says. “I had no idea my early retirement was on your agenda.”

“Wha-?” says Chris looking at Zach.

Zoë then holds out three one hundred dollar bills. “For your services Chris,” she says. Chris, confused, doesn’t argue but carefully takes the cash from her, again looking between both Zach and Zoë for verification.

“If you’re giving him that much, then that means -” says Zach, the sentence dying on his lips.

“That the crowd was quite substantial,” finishes Zoë.

“Holy shit,” says Chris. “I earned this?”

“Of course,” says Zoë. “You not only filled the cubicles, but the majority of execs tuned in to watch your show. I’m impressed.”

“Jesus,” says Chris, still trying to fathom the fact that he’s holding three hundred dollars. His first thought is Katie’s medicine. It’s still not enough, but it’s not far off; maybe with a few good tips, or even…

“Thanks Zo’,” says Zach, nudging Chris in the direction of the doors.

“Yes, thank you,” he intones, barely stopping himself from stumbling as he follows Zach.

“You’re welcome, honey,” says Zoë. “You are welcome here anytime.”

Chris pockets the cash and does his best to smother the smile. It’s the best thing that’s happened to him since being accepted to start training as a Toy. Nothing compares to cold hard cash and with his pocket carrying a good portion of the cost of Katie’s medicine he allows himself to think that maybe everything will be okay.

“Is she serious?” he asks when they’re back on the Express.

“Of course,” says Zach. “You earned it.”

“Do you think I could work there? Like, before I’m a Toy so I can earn a bit extra?” He’s certain a few nights would not only pay for Katie’s medicine, but also get some fresh food into the house and maybe even some new clothes for his mom.

“You _are_ a Toy, you don’t get to earn money at Sinners,” says Zach.

“Why not?”

“You belong to your employer. Tonight was an opportunity to learn, we may come back but earning the cash was a one-time thing.”

“You’re kidding me,” says Chris. “You electrified me in front of all those execs, which they obviously loved! Why not have a few more lessons at Sinners so I can earn a little extra?”

“Chris, I understand your predicament, but the lessons aren’t a paying thing. Zoë was just rewarding us because we happened to attract a big crowd. I’d hate to think what would happen to us if your employer found out you were working at Sinners during your training.”

“He’d probably watch and pay handsomely to do so,” mutters Chris. He figures Zach has a point, but surely another night or two wouldn’t hurt, and he’s so close to getting enough money for Katie. And how did he know Chris’s employer wasn’t in there tonight?

After getting off the Express, Chris refuses to let Zach anywhere near his home and insists he return to his own apartment.

“I promised to see you home,” says Zach.

“I’m fine,” says Chris looking away. He has no choice now, Katie’s needs are too great and if he can’t earn more money soon he’ll just have to do what he’s always done. He’s worried Zach can see his intent in his expression.

“If you’re sure,” says Zach taking a step back.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he says shoving his hands in his pockets. It’s dark, most of the street lights are broken, but the few that still have life emit enough of a glow to stave off the gloom. “Tomorrow?”

“Ten,” says Zach. “Sleep in, you need it.”

Chris nods. “Okay, see you then.” He moves to turn away but looks back. “And thanks, for tonight,” he says.

“My pleasure,” says Zach smiling as he starts walking away.

 

Less than an hour later, Chris feels a swift yank from his sore hole when his fare’s cock withdraws. He clings to the edge of the dumpster. The instant the guy is free he’s thankfully running off. Chris grimaces as he moves, the ache in his ass slicing through when he reaches to pull up his pants, his payment clenched tightly in his fist. No sooner had he taken hold of the cash and his fare had rolled on the condom, he was roughly turned around and slammed up against the side of the bin, his jeans down and the fucker’s cock thrusting into him.

“Ah, Jesus,” he says through his teeth, wincing as he pulls the waistband of the new jeans Zach had got him over his ass. It instantly reminds him of their session at Sinners and Zach’s gentle fingers as they worked the different stimulators and devices. But more importantly, he’s done it. He now has enough to buy Katie’s medicine. He stuffs the money into his pocket to join the three hundreds, and goes to leave the alley, but someone is standing at the entrance, it looks as though their arms are crossed, but Chris can’t make them out given the glare of the street light in his eyes. “Hundred if you want me to blow you,” he says. “Two if you wanna fuck me.”

“The fuck are you doing, Chris?”

 _Oh. Shit._ “Zach?” Sure enough, Zach steps further into the alley and Chris can see his Coach is anything but happy. “Oh, fu-... how--how much did you see?”

Zach passes a hand over his face, taps a finger to his lips before wrapping his arms about his torso again. “From the moment he approached you,” he says. “Or perhaps the more likely scenario of when you approached him.”

“Fuck,” Chris breathes.

“I need you in top condition when I hand you over to your employer. If anything, _anything_ happens to you between now and then, it’ll be my ass that’s kicked.”

“My heart bleeds,” says Chris. Angry that Zach is only concerned for himself. “I’ve got a family to feed and a sister that’s at death’s door,” he says, his voice louder than he wants it, but he needs Zach to understand, he has no choice!

“So what happens when one of your--your fuck jobs has his way with you, then slits your throat because he doesn’t feel like parting with his hard earned cash?”

“Dude, I know what I’m doing,” says Chris trying to keep his temper in check. “I have to survive and this is the only way I can make sure my family has the basic goddamn necessities in life.”

Zach turns away, shoves his hands in his hair and puffs out a loud breath before turning back to face him. “I get it, I really do, but has nothing I’ve told you, or warned you about sunk in?”

“I gotta eat!” Chris shouts. “The fuck do you expect me to do when there’s no other way for me to earn money? There are _no_ jobs Zach, no way for people that live like I do to get ahead and get a job that will help us climb out of the stinking, fucking hole that we’re all drowning in!” Above them windows suddenly open and people begin shouting down at them to shut the hell up.

Zach visibly sighs. “Look, what if I help out, just to tide you over?”

“No thank you,” says Chris sharply. “I’m not a charity; I can make it one way or the other.”

“I just thought -”

“Have you ever offered cash to your other students?”

Zach opens his mouth, the words ready to sound, but instead he sighs again. “Fine,” he says and Chris hopes it’s in defeat. “We’ll go back to Sinners and I’ll talk to Zoë. She might make an exception given the performance you gave tonight. You’ll have to give up the diner, working at Sinners means nights.”

“No problem, man,” says Chris. He’s breathing easier, he’s sure to earn far more at Sinners than he ever did at the diner. Karl will kill him for leaving, but at the same time, he’ll understand.

“Hand in your notice tomorrow, you’ll be starting at Sinners the following night,” says Zach.

“But I thought you said you had to speak to Zoë?”

“Yeah, but I have little doubt she’ll want you on her books. In spite of you being a Toy and all, that crowd you drew? She really _was_ impressed.”

 

Though it’s early, the clinic is already brimming with people. The waiting area is overflowing with small children, the elderly and several fatigued looking people. Chris goes to the desk and waits patiently while the receptionist finishes her call. He leans on it, his arms crossed and once she hangs up he beams at her, hoping it has the desired effect. It does. She smiles back and he’s relieved her smile reaches her eyes.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says keeping his smile in place. “I need to fill my sister’s prescription, but it needs renewing. I wondered if Doctor Eve would mind writing one up for me?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll still need an appointment. Dr. Eve is fully booked today, but I might be able to squeeze your sister in later next week?”

That’s when his smile falters. “You don’t understand, she’s already run out of her medicine and I really need to get more. Surely it won’t take two minutes for Alice to just sign a piece of paper?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she says and though she keeps her smile in place it suddenly leaves her eyes. “But we don’t have the ability to issue prescriptions without an appointment. Our doctors are extremely busy seeing patients and don’t have the resources to set aside time for anyone who requires a prescription renewed.”

“If I could just see her, I know she would -”

“Chris?”

He turns and sees her, Doctor Alice Eve. Her lab coat is a little stained and she looks tired in spite of it not yet being 8 o’clock.

“Doc,” he says. And though he’s always enjoyed her company, despite the lectures and embarrassing examinations, he gets straight to the point. “Katie’s run out of medicine, and I just need a new prescription.”

“I tried to explain he needs an appointment,” says the receptionist.

“It’s fine, Kerry,” says Alice. “I’ve got this.” Kerry rolls her eyes but only after Alice has turned away.

“This won’t take a moment,” says Alice. “Come through to my room, Chris, so I can look up Katie’s file.”

“Sure,” says Chris and once again beams at Kerry who shakes her head.

“How is Katie?” Alice asks as Chris follows her down the corridor.

“Not much improvement, but the medicine helps, it’s just so fucking expensive.”

Alice smirks. “Unfortunately there’s little I can do about the price of it, but it’s lasting a few months right?”

“Yeah,” he says chastened. She opens the door to her office and Chris follows her in.

Though the office itself is tidy, it’s still evident that Alice is making to with what she has. A small bookcase is filled with old scrappy looking textbooks, their spines failing and the gold lettering almost faded to a mere shadow. The curtains are old and yellowing and the desk is propped up on one side with a stack of bricks. At least there’s power and the medical supplies they receive are state of the art and new.

 “I’d dearly love to send her for more conclusive tests, but since you’re already struggling to pay for her current treatment…”

“It’s fine,” says Chris. He wants to tell her about his new job, but bites his tongue. “Once I’m working again we’ll save for the tests.”

“Alright,” she says and begins typing on her laptop. It’s sleek and silver, but Chris knows it’s not new either. The clinics do what they can for their patients, and the little funding they receive from the government means they have to cut costs just like everywhere else. To ensure they’re able to see patients free of charge means other areas of the budget are sequestered. “Okay, I see,” she says, reading her screen. “No problem,” she finishes typing and the printer beside her begins to whir. In seconds it spits out the prescription which Alice signs and hands over to Chris.

“Thank you,” he says sighing in relief.

“All part of the service,” she says. “In fact, while you’re here, is everything well with you?”

“Oh, ah, I’m fine,” he says shifting in the chair and rubbing the back of his neck. “But I could do with more rubbers.” His ass is still sore from the fucking he received last night, and surprisingly he’s had no ill effects from the session he had with Zach. But until he’s convinced he’ll be able to work at Sinners, he’d rather be stocked up.

“Of course,” she says opening a drawer without having to look. It’s full of foil packets, all neatly stacked. Chris takes a handful, eyeing Alice as he does so, but she doesn’t say a word. Although he’s is ready to leap from the chair when he sees her eyes begin their general once over.

“I’m fine, really.”

“So you said,” she says, but he can tell she’s still assessing. “Just let me have a quick look…” And before he can escape she has a tongue depressor out and her little light is shining down his throat, then his ears and lastly a brief but annoying eye test. “Any rashes, lesions or unexplained symptoms?”

“None,” he says.

“Well, in spite of it all, Chris, you are exceptionally healthy.”

“See,” he says. “Told you.”

“Just keep it that way,” she says making the point clear by glaring at his fistful of condoms.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Alright, we’re done, you’re free to go.”

“Thanks Doc,” he says and does leap from the chair. He shoves the rubbers into the pocket of his hoodie and walks out, winking at Kerry on his way passed. He fills the prescription and feels a lot lighter when Katie’s medicine is in his hand.

“How on earth?” says Gwynne when she sees the pharmacy bottle on the table full of her daughter’s medication. “How did you -?”

“Lucky break,” says Chris smiling at his mother’s confusion. He leans back, smug as fuck that he’s managed to obtain it. “I’ve given Katie a dose, she’s sleeping now. But I think we need to consider getting her those tests the doctor’s always talking about.”

“Oh son, you know we have no hope of affording that kind of medical expense. As long as we can treat her with medicine I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“No, Mom, she’s not getting any better,” says Chris. “We’re gonna be stuck forking out thousands we really can’t afford trying to keep up with her medicine. What if what she has is curable? The Doc’s treating her symptoms, but a real diagnosis and more effective treatment could see her fit and well again.”

“Chris, sweetheart,” says his mom as she sits at the table opposite him. “I know how hard you’re trying to keep us afloat, but as long as there’s food and fresh water, we’ll manage somehow.”

He sits forward. “I’m not giving up on her,” he says.

“Neither am I, but what choice is there when everything we need to improve our way of life amounts to an absolute fortune?”

“I’m looking for work,” he says hating having to lie. “Once I’m in secure employment we can start saving again.”

Gwynne sighs, nods and reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. “Sure thing sweetheart,” she says then stands. “And thank you. You’re all that’s keeping the family alive.”

“Please trust me, Mom,” he says. “I’m gonna get us out of this.”

“I know,” she says and goes to check on Katie.

If he could just tell her about his employment, that the money he’ll earn will make their lives so much better. He will get those tests for Katie, whatever it takes to see his sister well and his mother looked after.

 

Pushing his way through the door Chris’s nose fills with the smells of the diner’s menu. Sausages, eggs, and burgers, the diner’s mainstay, other than the heavy aroma of the cheap coffee they serve. The pie case on the counter is almost empty, so his first task of the night will be to fill it. Other than waiting on customers, clearing dishes and wiping down tables his night will be relatively uneventful. Except for the talk he has to have with his boss. It’s not one he’s looking forward to and as the night drags on he’s finding more and more menial tasks as excuses not to have to confront him.

“The fuck’s with you tonight?” asks Karl as he stacks dirty dishes into the washer. “You’ve been moping around like a goddamn eunuch!”

In his effort to stave off talking to his boss Chris has also avoided telling Karl about his needing to quit. He dumps the tub of dishes he’s cleared and wipes his forehead with his sleeve.

“Look man, I’ve got something to tell you, but you’ve gotta promise me you won’t get pissy.”

“Well, fuck, how can I not get pissy when you’re telling me you’ve clearly got fucking bad news to tell me. Oh shit, it’s happened, hasn’t it? Is it the clap? Did you accept one too many diseased peckers?”

“Jesus, Karl,” says Chris but it’s made him smile. “No, nothing like that, I’m fine. But, I’m quitting the diner. I’ve found something that’s gonna pay me pretty decently.”

Karl stops stacking, takes the two steps that’s separating them and wraps his soaking arms around Chris’s shoulders hugging him fiercely. “About fucking time,” he says into Chris’s collar. Chris dubiously hugs Karl back, trying to understand how it is that his best friend hasn’t exploded into a tirade of expletives and how dare he’s. Karl pulls back and Chris is surprised to see his friend’s eyes are glistening. “So when do you start? And what will you be doing?”

“Oh,” says Chris immediately taking a step back

 out of Karl’s grip. “I start tomorrow night.”

“Nights?” says Karl and Chris can see his reaction of stepping back has Karl wary. “More factory work?”

It’s a tough call. His mother’s one thing because he’d never hear the end of it along with all the worried looks, but Karl’s his best friend and he knows he can trust him. But to tell him about Sinners? That can only lead to him divulging more than he means to. He takes a breath. “Sinners,” he says softly. He can’t bring himself to conjure up a lie that would both be convincing and one he’d be able to keep track of. His friendship with Karl means a lot, he has every intention of keeping in touch, even when he becomes a fully-fledged Toy.

“Did you say Sinners?” asks Karl. He folds his arms, an eyebrow raised as he rocks back and forth on his feet. “As in _Sinners_ Sinners?

“Yeah, that Sinners,” says Chris. He doesn’t want to look at Karl anymore and tries to look away. Karl’s arms drop to his sides.

“Well, fuck me,” he says, then the smile brightens his face and his arms come up, open and congratulatory. “That’s awesome, dude!” says Karl jumping him with another big hug and jostling him on the spot. “Holy fuck, that means you’ll be fucking every night, in clean, sanitary conditions, not in back alleys. Oh, and the babes, dude, you get to bang some of the _most_ gorgeous tail.” Karl puts a hand out and begins jerking his hips against an imaginary ass. “Not to mention the dudes bro, you’ll be in fucking bi-topia! Oh, and I’ve heard they often recruit from Sinners for pornos. Pornos man! You could be fucking famous! Well, on the down-low.”

“It’s just for the interim,” Chris interrupts. “Just until I find something more suitable.”

“More suitable?” says Karl, stopping mid pretend blow job to look at Chris. “Are you crazy? Dude, you won’t find anything better than a steady income at Sinners,” he drops his voice to a whisper, “Those fucking execs pay through their fucking noses,” rubs his thumb against his fingers to indicate the cash Chris can expect. “And _you_ my man could find yourself in high demand.”

Chris frowns, it’s a similar remark to the one Zach had said about him being a Toy. That he could be in demand. “How much have you heard about Sinners? I thought it was top secret, like Area 51 before it was blown to smithereens.”

Karl’s smile only broadens and he gives a wicked wink. “It’s not what you know, but who, mate. I may be a humble dishwasher, but in reality I’m actually a spy deep undercover.”

Chris gives him a withering look. “A spy, huh? For who?”

“Never you mind, buddy,” says Karl returning to his dishes.

“If you’re a spy, I’m a -” he stalls.

“Porn star?” Karl offers.

“Fuck off.”

He manages to see his boss before his shift ends leaves. He’s pissed as Chris expected, but more the fact that Chris is such a great worker than the inconvenience his leaving will cause. His tips are still lousy, and the leftovers meager at best, but Chris is surprised that he feels lighter when he leaves. He won’t have to clear another plate or deal with another shitty customer. In fact, he thinks he’ll be able to avoid dumpsters and back alleys if the money he earned the other night is anything like what he has the potential to earn in the week and few days he has left of training. Then it’s onto the big bucks. The wage he needs to get his family out of the Styx and into a nice new apartment in The Flats.

 

End of Part 2


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to be changing for the better until Chris learns the truth about Zach’s previous Toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forever thank you to Medeafic for all the betaing and encouragement.

Unable to eat, Chris puts the plate of leftovers back in the fridge, and heads to the back room where he turns on the tap and stands naked under the freezing stream of water. But even the icy cold shower doesn’t quell the frenzy of butterflies in his stomach. This is what he wanted, to work and earn decent money for his family. But the time he’s spending with Zach and the kinks he’s exploring only bring him closer to the fact that he’ll soon have to leave his mom and sister and live with his employer as a Toy. A plaything. A possession to be brought out and manipulated and commanded and used in whatever fashion his employer sees fit. In spite of what it means, the plaguing thought of leaving his family weighs far more heavily.

He dresses, his chilled skin grateful for the warmth his clothes provide. His mother is sitting at the table when he emerges and for an instant he stalls.

“You haven’t eaten,” she says.

“I’m really not hungry.”

She looks at him then and he can see she’s trying to assess what’s wrong. As though her intuition alone can diagnose the turmoil he’s feeling.

“Are you working again tonight?”

“Yes,” he says and takes the seat opposite. He and his mother often had long conversations about life before the war, his father and even dreams of what life might be like if they manage to get out of the Styx. “Don’t stay up; I’m not sure what time I’ll get in.” It’s not unusual for him to work over his scheduled shift at the diner, but tonight he’ll be at Sinners and hopefully earning far more money than the diner ever paid him in pathetic tips.

Gwynne nods. “You should eat then.”

“I’ll eat later,” he says and stands then, heading for the door. “It’ll be okay mom,” he says.

Her sad eyes look at him and he can see the weight of all their problems in their troubled depths. He really hopes he’ll be able to take it from her. “Be careful sweetheart,” she says.

“Sure thing,” he says.

The piles of refuse and rubbish surround the dwellings of the Styx like lattice. Chris is used to the smell, but since he’s been away from it more and more his nose is becoming sensitive to the cloying stench that threatens to upset his empty stomach. He does his best to breathe through his mouth, but it still reaches his scent receptors forcing him to walk more hurriedly towards the station. He wants to see Zach and have more understanding as to what will be expected of him once he’s at Sinners. He figures if he can perform as well as he did last night, then the transition from Sinners to employer shouldn’t be that much of a culture shock.

“Hey you,” says a voice and suddenly Chris is slammed up against a wall by his shoulder, the back of his head cracking against the bricks.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hand feeling his skull to check for blood. He looks up, but a face crowds his vision. It’s a familiar one, and one Chris knows quite well. “Aaron,” he croaks as the hand that shoved him is used to grab his throat. “It’s been a while.” Aaron’s a regular, but he’s also in the same kind of situation as Chris; stuck in the Styx and doing odd jobs to earn money. Chris had been an outlet and Aaron saved frivolously to use him.

“You fucking faggot,” says Aaron his hand, squeezing hard and making it difficult for Chris to speak. “It’s taking me fucking weeks!”

“What?” Chris croaks, his own hands are clutching Aaron’s, desperately trying to lever off the pressure so more air can get in.

“You’re prices are unreasonable, I need you more, but I can’t get the dough together to pay for you,” he says. “So what I want is for you to drop your prices seeing as I’m a loyal customer and all, capiche?”  The breath emanating Aaron’s mouth is foul and in good contest to the reek of the rubbish piles that surround them.

“No sale,” Chris gasps. “I don’t run a fucking charity here. You want to fuck me, you pay for the pleasure.”

“You fucker,” says Aaron, coming in closer, his other hand suddenly fumbling with Chris’s button and fly. Chris reaches, grabbing his wrist to pull him away, but he can still feel Aaron’s fingers straining towards him. “I’m gonna take you here and now,” he says, his voice harsh and nasty.

“Out here?” says Chris. “So any passerby can see? Are you crazy?”

Aaron laughs and the smell almost makes Chris keel over. “You think they give a shit? People fuck out in the open all the time!”

“I’m not one of them,” says Chris making leeway on the hand at his neck.

“You like it,” says Aaron. “How many times have I fucked you outside where anyone could see?”

“It’s usually dark and the last time was at your place.” He feels the hand relax and he’s finally able to pull it away from his throat, same with the one at his pants.

“I’ve got fifty in cash at my place. What do you say?”

“No deal,” says Chris. “You know my sister’s sick. I can’t afford anything less than two hundred for a fuck.” It might seem foolish that he refuse fifty bucks, but knowing Aaron as he does Chris would insist on seeing it first. On more than one occasion Aaron managed to lure Chris with the promise of decent cash. Those occasions never ended well considering the money was usually non-existent.

The fight seems to leave Aaron and thankfully he takes a step back. Though the air isn’t much better, it’s a lot less offensive than Aaron’s breath. “Go home, Aaron.”

“Fuck you,” says Aaron and he suddenly starts walking away.

Chris shakes his head. It’s not the first time he’s been roughed up by a potential customer. He’s kept his prices as they are because to do otherwise would mean a lower expectation and then God only knows the clientele he’d receive.

Safely stowed on the Express, Chris allows himself to forget about his run in with Aaron and focus on the night ahead. He’s annoyed his hands are still a little shaky when he places the card on the scanner of Zach’s door, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s low blood sugar as a result of not eating and then the adrenalin rush after Aaron’s harassment. Zach’s smile falls when he sees Chris. Though he’d tried to keep his features neutral, it occurs to Chris that he needs to work on his poker face.

“You’re here early,” says Zach. He leads him to the table and sits him down, then without even asking Zach goes to the kitchen and starts making him a sandwich.

“I really need to work at Sinners, man, I’ve got no other choice,” says Chris, furious his voice seems to convey how troubled he feels. Aaron wasn’t even that threatening compared to some of his other customers, the altercation just hit it all home.

Zach doesn’t say anything until the sandwich is set down in front of Chris with a tall glass of something cold and fizzy. “What happened?” he asks softly.

Chris had expected an ‘I told you so’, or a ‘didn’t I say’, but Zach’s gentle approach enables him to open up.

“You were almost right,” he says his mouth full of sandwich. “I know what I’m doing, but I’ve had enough. In all seriousness, I don’t have any other way of getting the money I need so I can take care of my sister.”

Zach nods. “You’ve had a fright?”

“No, just one of my idiot regulars being a dick.”

“Wanted a fuck without paying?”

Chris nods and takes another bite. “More or less,” he mumbles. He can’t look at Zach then, and waits for the lecture.

 “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” he says and slugs down a mouthful of soft drink. It’s spiky sweet, but it’s doing wonders for the flutter in his chest. “Just a hand around my neck, but he didn’t get any further.”

“Let me see,” says Zach. Chris gives him a look, and obligingly tilts his head. “There’s a slight bruise, but nothing significant. He didn’t touch you otherwise?”

“No,” says Chris firmly. “Didn’t even get to pull my pants down. Like I said, he had his hand on my throat, but I talked him down and he walked off. It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with fuckwits, I’m just getting sick of it.””

“Does he know where you live?” asks Zach. “Will he wait for you?”

Chris shrugs. “Doubt it, but I can go home a different way,” he says downing another mouthful; it’s a fucking awesome sandwich.

“It’s not safe for you there anymore,” says Zach. “You can’t go back.” He stands and pulls out his phone.

“Wait, what?” says Chris almost choking and dropping the rest of the sandwich on the plate. “What do you mean I can’t go back? My mother and sister depend on me for food and shit. I can’t abandon them!” He can hear the alarm in his panicked voice. He feels stupid for admitting anything to Zach and now wishes he hadn’t. His first impulse is to make a run for it. If Zach thinks he won’t be able to see his family again, the asshole’s got another thing coming. Contract or no contract, Chris refuses to not ever be allowed to see his family.

“Chris, you’re in danger, and I can’t afford to hope that you’ll be okay during the remainder of your training,” says Zach and even he sounds a little agitated. “If you so choose I can make arrangements for your mother and sister, but it will incur further debt that you’ll owe your employer.”

“If I so choose, the fuck? Of course I choose, and what do you mean further debt?”

“As you’re aware you’re already obligated for the training. If I then ask that your employer accommodates your family it will add to the current debt.”

“Jesus, you’re shitting me?” says Chris. “What fucking choice do I have? I can’t leave them on their own.”

“You want me to make that call then?”

Zach’s indifference to the situation only rankles Chris further. “They’re not to be moved unless I’m there. That’s final,” he says his hands on his hips. “I will walk out that fucking door right now if anyone so much as goes fifty feet near my family.”

Zach pauses, and Chris thinks he’s wondering if he will actually leave. “Fine,” says Zach. “I’ll start the process  and inform you of the date they are to be relocated.”

“Good, thank you,” says Chris. It’s an upset he hadn’t anticipated, but at least he’ll have the chance to explain to his mother what’s happening. “Make the call, I’ll honor the debt.”

Zach keeps his eyes on Chris before pressing a number and committing himself to the call. Chris sits on the sofa, listening to his Coach making arrangements to move his family out of the Styx. It’s a small relief, knowing they’ll soon be out of the junk piles and danger. He wonders at his ever growing debt, unsure as to whether he’s expected to repay it in money or time. Of course his employer could choose to take a percentage of his wages, or he could be expected to remain with his employer for several years without the possibility of advancement, or negotiation to someone different. In that moment Chris has the tiniest ping of regret in his stomach. What the fuck has he got himself into?

Zach finishes the call and comes to stand in front of him. “Done,” he says.

“Will they be gentle with my mother?” he asks pointedly. “And Katie’s sick, will they know to be careful with her too?”

“You’ll be with them when the relocators come,” says Zach. “It’ll be fine Chris, don’t worry.”

But then something else occurs to him. “Hang on, how do you know where I live?” he asks quietly.

“How do you think?”

Again, the same level indifference. It’s the last straw. “You’ve been spying on me?” Chris says standing suddenly so they’re facing each other, their noses barely an inch apart.

“Not me personally, no.” says Zach looking at Chris steadily. He doesn’t move away or take a step back. As close as he is Chris can smell the warmth of his toasty breath. He’s had coffee and something sweet and Chris just wants to inhale it.

“Then who?” But it’s a stupid question. Who else but the person who practically owns him already? He looks down, his eyes closing. “It’s him isn’t it?” he says quietly.

Zach puts a hand on his shoulder squeezing a little in an effort to make Chris look at him. “You think your employer’s just going to place a bet without knowing the odds?”

“I guess not,” says Chris morosely. He feels stupid for pinning the blame on Zach in the first place. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried, you know?”

“I understand,” says Zach, and right there in those dark eyes is a shimmer of remorse which Chris thinks is a memory of Zach’s own family. Chris wonders just how much Zach would give to get his own family back. Zach lets him go and takes a step back towards the table. Chris instantly misses the warmth of his hand, and his breath. “Come and finish your sandwich, we’ll have a lesson before we head to Sinners.”

After he’s eaten Chris showers again, this time taking full advantage of the hot steaming water, then follows Zach into the training room wrapped up in his fluffy robe. He doesn’t seem to be getting a choice today, Zach strides over to an area of the room and waits for Chris to join him.

“Robe off,” he says. “Then on your hands and knees.”

“What am I learning today?” Chris asks letting the robe slide off. Zach’s standing next to a simple enough looking contraption. There’s a wheel that turns a crank and it appears to be electrical since there’s a lead that’s plugged into a nearby socket. He sinks to his knees wherein Zach’s crotch is right in his sightline and he can’t help but give it the occasional glance.

“Any experience with a fucking machine?” asks Zach.

“Oh,” says Chris flushing suddenly. He’s not one to shy away from a serious pounding, but it gives him an odd thrill to think the pounding will be coming from something that isn’t human, or human powered. “No, I’ve only ever seen them in…” the sentence dies. He doesn’t want to implicate Karl in anything.

Zach just smiles, “In that case,” he says indicating the machine behind Chris. “Voila!” Chris sees the length of metal that will ultimately drive into him, the only thing missing is whatever device Zach plans to have fucking Chris’s ass.

“Any requests?” Zach asks as he gives the machine the once over.

“Oh, um, I’m not sure.”

“Let’s start small, then we can work our way up.”

“Sure okay,” says Chris, though he’s really not sure at all. He leans forward and settles his weight on his hands. There’s a mirror in front of him, so if he looks at it he’ll see every expression he makes while the machine fucks into him.

Zach fits a dildo to the end and slicks it with lube. Then he smears more lube around Chris’s hole, several of Zach’s fingers shove in without warning, and Chris gasps at the sudden intrusion.

“Hey,” he says, looking back. “Easy.”

“You think your employer will be easy? You think he’ll wait patiently while you ready yourself to accept a fisting? Or a buttplug or the biggest fucking dildo he can fucking find?”

“Jesus dude, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole all of a sudden?” He feels Zach pause, then he’s suddenly moving away. Chris straightens, his knees sinking a little into the rubber mat. Zach’s still walking away. Chris watches him wipe his lubed fingers on his sweatpants before he crosses his arms by wrapping them about his torso like he does. “Zach?”

“I’m sorry,” comes the reply. Soft as it is, Chris hears it.

“It’s fine,” says Chris. “Just go easy, okay?”

“It’s not that,” says Zach turning back and taking a few steps towards him. “I’m sorry about what happened, about what has to happen with your family, about the fact that you have to sell yourself to eat, and that I’m making you leave your home.”

“Hey, whoa,” says Chris. He gets up, and he’s not even concerned that he’s naked and Zach’s fully dressed when he walks over to him, and puts a hand on Zach’s arm. “Don’t pity me, okay? I’m working to get _out_ of the situation I’m in. And the move is a good thing really, I’m doing this for my family.”

“I know, it’s just -- fuck!” says Zach pushing his hands through his hair. “I want to do more for you but I can’t because I’m bound by contracts and protocol and fucking legislature.”

“It’s fine,” says Chris squeezing Zach’s arm and wishing he could do more himself. “Come and show me how this thing works. It’s fine Zach, really, I’m fine.”

Zach nods, biting his lip. Chris senses there’s maybe a little more to it, but he won’t push, he figures if Zach wants to tell him he will when he can.

“Come on,” says Chris and takes Zach’s hand, pulling him back to the machine. He positions himself back on all fours, shifting himself when Zach explains he needs to start with the dildo inside him. Its entry is easy since the dildo itself isn’t that big.

“Ready?” Zach asks.

“Yeah.”

Zach flicks the switch, and the machine instantly begins pumping in and out of Chris’s ass.

“Oh wow,” says Chris. It’s a steady rhythm, slow and consistent, but Chris can feel the effect in his hardening dick as his ass receives it over and over. “Mm, more,” he says. “I can take more.”

“Faster or bigger?” asks Zach.

“Both.”

Zach stops the machine and goes to the cabinet, selecting another dildo. Chris leans his forehead on his arms a shiver of delight racing along his spine when he feels the dildo tip nudging at his thighs while Zach attaches it to the machine.

“Okay, ease back,” says Zach. He assists the entry by spreading more lube, and holding Chris’s cheeks apart. “That’s it, okay push back, push, good a little more.”

“Ungh,” Chris grunts as the much larger dildo stretches his ass. His breath catches, it’s a lot bigger and once he’s fully impaled it’s pressing deliciously hard against his prostate. “Oh fuck,” he groans. He can see himself in the mirror, his face twisting in all sorts of expressions. He imagines it’s what his O-face might look like because he’s never actually seen it himself.

“I’ll start it on the same speed,” says Zach. “Let me know when you want to go faster.”

“Sure,” he grunts, then Zach flicks on the machine. “Oh fuck!” he barks, his ass having to accommodate the bigger dildo that unrelentingly penetrates again and again. “God. Damn,” he mutters because although it’s pummeling him it’s also hitting that sweet spot with each thrust. “Fuck, turn it up,” he says.

“You sure?” asks Zach. “You feel okay?”

“It feels fucking amazing,” says Chris. “Turn it up, make it ram me for fuck’s sake.” It’s as though two live wires are connecting inside him, each thrust bringing them together sending bursts of pleasure through his dick and balls.

Zach does so, and the instant the rhythm increases Chris lets out a loud moan. “Oh, oh my fuck, oh fuck that feels _so_ fucking good!”

“Need I remind you -”

“Yeah, fuck your gratification,” Chris mumbles taking hold of his rigid dick. Zach smacks his hand away.

“Nuh uh,” he says. “No touching.”

“Fuck you,” says Chris.

“Really?”

Chris thinks perhaps he shouldn’t have been so cocky. That even though Zach was having troubled thoughts about his lot in life, he should have just kept his mouth shut and let the machine do its thing.  Zach had smartly turned the machine off, and proceeded to tie Chris’s arms behind his back, then to a small padded stool for him to lean on. He’d even selected a much larger dildo and set the machine to fucking power drill speed.

His screams are obstructed by the ball gag in his mouth and his legs are trembling with fatigue as the machine mercilessly drills into his body. Sweat beads his forehead and saliva drips from the gag. His dick is ramrod hard, his balls clenched in tight. He’s desperate to come, but Zach isn’t letting him.

“You’re doing so well,” croons his Coach. “Fuck, you’re doing brilliantly.” Chris feels a hand run down his back, over the ropes and his forearms where Zach tied them hand to elbow, then down to his crack and the forever shunting of a machine that won’t quit, ever. There’s a coolness and Chris knows Zach’s added more lube, spreading easily with the movement of the dildo. “That’s it, take it, take it. God it’s so fucking huge and your ass is just opening to it. Beautiful, just beautiful, good boy.”

Chris jerks when Zach’s hand finally settles around his cock. After only a few swift jerks he’s coming and even the ball gag has trouble stifling the holler he emits when he comes. Zach flicks off the machine and starts to untie the knots then eases the gag from Chris’s mouth.

Chris flexes his hands, and when Zach reaches to help him up he sees that, once again, his Coach has been affected by the show. In sweatpants the hard on is a lot more prominent, tenting the lose fabric. Chris’s legs are a little wobbly, but he’s able to stand, his ass aching delightfully in memory. He’s languid, and knows he could sleep and probably will, but when he finally manages to focus Chris reaches, stroking over the rigid flesh. “Let me take care of that.”

“No,” says Zach but he doesn’t pull away. “Put your robe back on and go into the other room, I need to check you over.” Chris holds his gaze and makes a point of giving Zach’s cock another rub before he goes to pick up his robe. He remembers when Zach had him kneeling in front of him and shoving his cock down his throat. Chris has to admit he wishes that could happen again.

Zach checks his hands and arms for rope burn, his fingers for any circulation problems then finally his ass. Chris is given the all clear, but Zach insists that he drink the deliciously warm concoction Zach puts in his hand, then have a nap before they go to Sinners.

“Will you ever fuck me?” asks Chris. He’s half comatose and his mind is full of dream like images of all manner of sexual exploits. He’s lying in the Murphy bed, a pull down affair that folds up neatly out of the way when not in use.

Zach’s made himself a coffee and is sitting at the table with a book. “What do you think it would mean if I did? We’re not a couple Chris, you’re my student,” he says. “Besides, I think you know how to fuck.”

“Don’t you need to show me how my employer will like it?” He’s partially talking in his sleep, Zach’s face in his mind is close, they’re lying in bed together, and Chris wants to brush his fingers along Zach’s cheek.

“Believe me, fucking will be the last thing on your employer’s agenda.”

“Oh,” Chris sighs. He snuggles down on his side, clutching the pillow while he admires dream Zach and half listens to real Zach. “Because it’s too intimate?”

“Because it’s not his kink,” says Zach. “I have two weeks, well one and a bit weeks now, to try and show you everything your employer is likely to demand of you. If _he_ wants to fuck you, he’s having a very bad day.”

“Got it,” Chris says through a yawn. His body sinks deeper into the comfort of mattress and duvet and pillow.

“Sleep now,” says Zach. “We’ve a big night ahead.

“I’d let you fuck me,” says Chris to dream Zach. His breathing steadies and the depths of his dreams swamp over him as he descends into blissful rest.

“It would be my pleasure.”

 

Chris is very ready to go back to Sinners after he showers and dresses. He’d worn the same black clothes that Zach had given him the other night. Since he’d barely worn them anyway he figured he may as well get another wear out of them. But Zach has laid out new clothes for him, still black, but the t-shirt has a design on the front.

“I want you to wear this tonight,” says Zach just as Chris sticks his legs into the pants. Zach’s holding out his hand wherein a tiny leather collar sits. It’s similar to the one Zach had around Chris’s neck. “Bit small don’t you think?” he says with a smirk.

“Not when you’re hard,” says Zach and kneels in front of Chris, lifting his dick to secure the collar around the base of his flaccid cock. The touch of Zach’s cool fingers causes Chris to grip the fabric of the jeans a little harder. He fights with every molecule to keep his cock from rising. He’s been naked around Zach for only a few days, which is starting to feel normal. The fact that his body however, is continuously responding to Zach’s mere touch has him wondering if it’s in fact normal at all.

“Oh, right, well I guess not then,” says Chris watching as Zach fastens it, then checks to see if it’ll slide off. He bites his lip when his dick twitches but he manages to retain control. Zach stands and indicates that Chris can resume dressing. “So what’s that for?” he asks, the breath he’d been holding pushing past the words.

Zach holds up a remote. “Same idea as the dog collar, but for your dick,” says Zach. “But rather than being fully electrical, it just has an electrode on the underside. When I turn it on, your cock will feel it, but so will your balls.”

“Okay then,” says Chris, eyeing the bulge of his jeans. The tiny collar isn’t uncomfortable, but he can feel it whenever he moves. He almost can’t wait to get hard to see how much it’ll tighten.

“Let’s get going,” says Zach grabbing up a duffle bag Chris figures had been packed while he was asleep. “I promised Zoë I’d bring you early.”

He has to adjust himself a few times along the way as the collar feels weird, but by the time they reach Sinners Chris is happy it’s there. Only he and Zach are aware of it and that sends a thrill through him.

“Welcome back,” says Zoë. Her outfit is again a cat suit of PVC, but this time the suit is blood red and her lips are painted black. Flogger in hand, she smiles at them both. “You are in a great deal of trouble,” she says pointing the flogger handle at Chris.

“Me?” he says looking to Zach. “Why?”

“Come,” she says and they follow her past men in lacy panties, women in thigh high boots and one or two in full body rubber suits. Through each passageway there’s evidence of the war. Though it’s been several years, well over a decade, but Chris doesn‘t think he’ll ever get used to seeing it.

“This is my private office,” says Zoë, showing them into a large room. The art in here is untouched, perhaps Zoë managed to get lucky and find artifacts that were unscathed, or maybe, and more likely, they were ‘supplied’. Her furniture is all matching and modern, too modern for the likes of the hotel, but once the door is closed they could be in an office anywhere in the country. “Have a seat,” she says indicating the two chairs in front of her desk. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“No, thank you,” says Zach. “We’ll be on tonight.”

“Ah yes,” she says pouring herself a tumbler of something that looks like water and sitting in the chair behind the desk, her flogger placed to one side. “Tell me Chris, why do you want to work at Sinners?”

“He’s here to -”

“Now Zach,” says Zoë, interrupting. “Please let Chris answer.”

Suddenly timid in the presence of this remarkable woman, Chris glances at Zach before trying to produce a bit of saliva in his otherwise parched mouth. _He_ could have done with a drink!

“I need to learn,” he says unsure if he can trust saying anything else. He doesn’t feel right to say he needs the money, surely anyone looking for work has that as their number one priority. “My employer has invested time and money into me, I know I’ll be expected to perform to the highest of standards. Because of that, I believe the experience I gain from Sinners will only make me a better Toy for my employer.”

Zoë looks at him then at Zach. “Did you tell him that?”

“No ma’am,” says Zach. “I told him he couldn’t work here, but asked you since there was… a need.”

Zoë sits back and takes a sip of her drink. “What’s his experience?”

The question is this time directed at Zach. Chris is thankful as he really didn’t want to list off his sexual conquests to her.

“He can deep throat from the onset, needs more experience with fisting, but has already taken mine,” Zach begins and Chris feels the rise of heat from his chest to the top of his scalp with every item his Sex Coach lists off. “As you’re aware he will comply with electricity play, he’s a natural with a fucking machine, and quite frankly Zo could have a multitude of your execs creaming their pants just by looking at them with those puppy dog eyes.”

Zoë smiles, takes another sip. “I was _very_ impressed by your performance the other night. But therein lies the problem.”

“Problem?” says Chris his heart clenching as he looks to Zach.

Zach sits forward. “What problem, Zo?”

“Seems our little Toy here has caused a great deal of, let’s call it, conversation among a number of my patrons.”

“Conversation?”

“Seems his employer has received several bids to take possession of him.”

“Bids?” says Chris. “What does that mean?”

“You, my boy, had them all, how did Zach put it? Creaming their pants. So much so in fact, that several went so far as to approach your employer to see if they couldn’t buy out your contract.”

“Oh my God,” says Chris.

“Did he complain?” asks Zach and Chris can hear the tone of concern in his voice. “About Chris being here and being viewed?”

“On the contrary, he actually made a deal with them.”

“A deal?” says Zach and Chris in unison.

“Jinx,” says Zoë finishing her drink and placing the tumbler down next to her flogger. “You are to perform here for the remainder of your training. You will be paid a small wage to do so, and I will allocate one of the rooms on the employee level for the pair of you since you may need to stay on occasion . The execs that come to watch will be paying top dollar to see you and in turn your employer gains a percentage.”

“What happens once my training finishes?”

“You’re my concern while you’re here, it’ll be up to your employer to decide your fate thereafter.”

“Right,” says Chris, but Zach gives him a reassuring smile. It hits him then, once his training is over, that’ll be it between them. He won’t have to see Zach, won’t be going to his apartment anymore. It’ll be his employer. His throat constricts, fuck, he’s really going to _miss_ him!

“So, how do you plan to wow the executives this time?” asks Zoë.

Zach looks as though he’s been waiting for that exact question. “CBT,” he says

“CBT?” asks Chris. He’s heard it before and tries to remember where from.

“Really?” says Zoë. “You’re one hundred percent sure he’s ready?”

“Nothing gets the execs fired up more than good wholesome cock and ball torture,” says Zach.

_Oh_ , thinks Chris. It had been in one of Karl’s movies. The guy was having all manner of serious torture inflicted on his dick and sack. “I um, I’m not sure,” he says. Though he’s managed to handle everything Zach’s dished out, the stuff he’d seen in Karl’s movie was severely cringe worthy. Even now his balls clench in memory as Karl’s voice rings in his ears. _“Caw! Look, would you look at that! They are fucking purple, his nuts are purple Chris, that’s how tight she’s bound them, do you see? Look, you’re not even looking.”_

Zoë looks at him, and he hopes all her expectations aren’t suddenly withering away. “In that case honey, I think we need to provide a lesson before we put you in front of the execs. It’s one thing to watch it in a porno, it’s quite another to see it happening in real life. You’d be surprised how erotic the experience can be.”

How the hell did she know he’d seen it in a porno? He knows his expressions can often give away his feelings, but he didn’t realize he was _that_ easy to read. _“She’s whipping them Chris! You’ve got to see this, fuck that must be agony!”_

“We can start off easy, like always,” says Zach.

“I think this time Chris can see what’s involved rather than participate for now, don’t you?” her gaze settles on Zach and Chris, turning to his Coach, sees the flicker of concern cross his features.

“Of course,” he says as though Zoë couldn’t have meant anything else. “You and me then?”

Zoë nods. “As I keep having to remind you Zach, Toys learn from all experience, not just the lessons they partake in.”

“I’m aware of that,” he says and Chris thinks he’s beginning to look nervous.

“I know it’s been a while for you, but you learnt from the best, let’s see what you’ve retained.”

“Your lessons were hard to forget, Zo,” says Zach. It’s then Chris realizes that Zoë must have been Zach’s Coach and therefore Zach was a Toy himself!

“Hang on,” says Chris his mind threatening to spill over with the multitude of questions he has. “You were a Toy?”

Zach doesn’t look at him. “Yes,” he says, an underlying frustration in his voice that a secret he’d obviously hoped to keep has been torn from his grasp.

“When were you going to tell me?” he asks looking between Zach and Zoë. She looks at Zach, her eyebrows raised.

“It’s irrelevant to this situation,” says Zach looking directly at Zoë. She purses her lips and Chris sees her shoulders sag a little.

“How is it anything _but_ relevant?” says Chris. “You’ve lived the life I’m about to embark on, how is that not relevant?”

Zoë moves to speak, but Zach talks over her. “It has no bearing on your training now or ever. I’m teaching you what I know Chris, don’t you think that would come from my experience as a Toy?”

Chris wants to argue that surely there’s more to it than learning and understanding the various kinks. He wants to know about the in between times, what happens when his employer isn’t using him? How does he live, where do his meals come from? And does this mean that every Coach was, at some stage, a Toy?

Zach’s arms are crossed, and though Chris desperately wants to push the point, he lets it go. He’d hoped Zoë would step in and insist Zach come clean, but she also seems resigned to the fact that Zach is a totally locked box and nothing, not even a sledge hammer will get him to open up.

“Since Chris is expected to perform later this evening, I suggest we begin immediately,” says Zoë. “You’ll need time to rest and I still have a business to run.” She stands and Chris figures the meeting is over. They both follow her to the door. “Meet me in the Holy Room in ten.”

“As you wish,” says Zach. She leaves them and Zach turns in the opposite direction, to take Chris to their room.

“The Holy Room?” Chris asks.

“Yeah,” says Zach, smiling, the previous tension seemingly forgotten now they’re back to being Coach and Toy. “One night, ages ago, when Sinners changed hands and Zoë took over she got some of the staff to conduct a survey of words Toys were crying out during their sessions for a bit of fun. The Holy Room won the most God’s, Jesus’s, and Holy mother of’s that were uttered over the course of the evening.”

“I see,” says Chris with a smirk. “Kind of makes sense.” He allows for a single moment before deciding to try again. He might have more luck now that Zoë’s gone. “ When were you going to tell me you were a Toy?”

“Not now Chris, please,” says Zach. “I’m about to have my dick and nutsack subjected to Zoë’s loving care.”

“Oh,” says Chris sensing Zoë’s _loving_ care really isn’t. “Yeah sure.”

Zach sighs. “I never became a Toy, I was able to become a Coach instead.”

“Wow, really? That must have been a relief.”

Zach shrugs, “Maybe,” he says coolly. “I sometimes wonder if I would have been better off being a Toy.”

They reach the room Zoë said was theirs for the remainder of Chris’s training. It’s a home base of sorts, somewhere to keep clothes, take a shower and ultimately sleep.

Chris marvels at the decor, it’s carpeted, has its own bathroom and a little seating area with two armchairs and a coffee table. There’s two single beds, each against an opposing wall, both neatly made with an old fashioned bedspread and pillow.

While they settle in Chris senses Zach’s mood change, there’s a spiky aura, one in which Chris feels Zach neither wishes to answer the myriad questions Chris desperately wants to ask, nor does he wish to engage in normal chit chat. 

“Don’t speak to me during the session,” says Zach sternly.

“Okay,” says Chris. He feels oddly displaced when Zach changes into sweatpants and a t-shirt, his feet sliding into a pair of flipflops.

“I understand Zoë’s methods, but they’re not _my_ methods. I _prefer_ to use experience as a way to teach.”

“It’s okay Zach,” says Chris stepping up to him. “If you don’t want to do this you don’t have to. Don’t force yourself on my account.”

“I’m not afraid of her,” he says sharply. “You think I haven’t had this done to me before? You think I haven’t had a fist shoved up my ass, or had my body fried with electricity? Like I said, everything I know, everything I’m teaching you, I learnt from her.”

“I’m coming to that realization,” says Chris. “The point is you never told me you were a Toy to begin with.”

Zach stalls, his mouth open, ready to unleash the next tirade that Chris isn’t sure is an argument or a discussion. Either way, Zach’s upset.

“I know,” he says softly, then sits on the bed and stares out at nothing. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a while and it’s bringing back a lot of memories I’ve tried very hard to forget.”

“Hey,” says Chris sitting beside him. “I understand this is a tough gig, having to teach and train guys and girls all for the purpose of bringing sexual gratification to a bunch of people who can afford to live above the law.” He gently, hesitatingly, puts an arm around Zach’s shoulders and feels a twinge in his heart when his Coach leans into him.

“I can’t save you all.” Chris doesn’t think he’s ever heard so much pain in someone’s voice. Even his own mother’s after his father died.

“I don’t need saving,” he says squeezing Zach’s shoulders. “We’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.” Zach seems so vulnerable, the polar opposite of the man who’s been training him to understand all manner of sexual encounter. It worries him, but at the same time he’s touched that deep down there is a human who is just as fragile as everyone else. He then wonders if this is about Miles, that the memories Zach is trying to forget are in fact about the Toy that disappeared, a Toy Chris believes might have meant more to Zach than what he should have.

Unwittingly, he presses his mouth to Zach’s temple, “It’ll be okay.” It’s not really a kiss, just the reassurance of his presence, like a parent comforting a child. He feels Zach nod and pulls away. His Coach tries to surreptitiously wipe his eyes and Chris stands to give him some privacy.

“Zoë will be waiting,” says Zach and Chris can tell by his voice that the moment is gone, and Zach’s shields are back in place.

The Holy Room is smaller and a bit darker than the training suites Chris has been in. The other difference is the walls are solid and the door seems thicker. He has the distinct feeling the room is sound proof. There’s a large X made from two lengths of thick metal beam bolted firmly to the floor and ceiling  with chains welded in place that hold padded clamps for both arms and legs. Opposite the X are a bunch of chains hanging from the ceiling and along one wall are all manner of devices and contraptions gleaming in sanitized cleanliness.

Zach is into his third yoga pose when Zoë enters. He stops and starts undressing, pulling off his t-shirt and carefully folding it.

“Come on Zach,” she says. No one gives a fuck about whether your clothes are creased.”

“I care,” he says. Chris watches him strip down biting a lip when Zach’s cock is freed and he’s reminded of how that formidable piece was shoved down his throat.

There’s a chair in a corner and Zoë indicates to it, a clear instruction that Chris is to sit and stay. It gives him a good view, there’s the same mirror on the wall across from him and the panel of lights which are currently off. After closing and locking the door, Zoë heads straight to the X and checks over the shackles that dangle from their chains. Once satisfied, she directs the now naked Zach to stand ready so she can restrain him. She clamps both his wrists, then kneels to deal with his ankles.

“Honestly Zach,” she says tutting loudly. “You’ve let yourself go a bit.”

“Oh come on,” says Zach. “You can’t tell me they don’t get off on a bit of bush for fuck’s sake.”

“No, but it makes it a lot easier to apply the toys.” She grabs a tuft a gives it a yank. Zach hisses, teeth bared, but the secured chains restrict his movement, though Chris sees him jerk.

“Since shaving wasn’t a part of the negotiation, then I guess you’re stuck with it,” he says, glaring at her.

The collar around Chris’s cock begins to strain. Watching his Sex Coach being treated like a Toy; bound and verbally chastised, is doing unspeakable things to his cock and balls. Zach has never looked hotter; trussed up as he is. Though Zach is able to stand, he doesn’t have much ability to move. Zoë leaves him shackled for a moment while she checks over the various toys and implements of torture all hanging on the wall.

Chris can’t take his eyes off Zach’s spread-eagled form; his dick hanging flaccid, the muscles in his torso flexing, his nipples hard. He tries to relax, sinking further into the chair and leaning his leg on his knee. It eases the ache that’s already burning in his balls.

Zoë snaps on a pair of rubber gloves and barely gives Zach a consideration when she applies lube to his ass. Chris watches him flinch, his eyes closing momentarily, so he can keep control. No sooner is he slicked up when Zoë brings out a cock lock, a ring of metal with a hook like piece that’s tipped with a small ball, which Chris figures is an anal plug. She says something to Zach that Chris can’t hear, but he nods and she threads both his cock and balls through the ring before gently pushing the anal bead into Zach’s ass. He bites his lip, indication enough to Chris that the ball has found its mark. The silver of the metal ring is nestled in the thick hair of Zach’s groin. Chris would love to touch it, but he’s far too excited for whatever Zoë has in store for his Coach. In some type of dark twisted fantasy, Chris feels as though he’s getting his own back for all the tortures Zach’s inflicted on him. But in all honesty Chris hasn’t considered it as torture, every session they’ve had has been enlightening and powerful and fucking amazing.

Zoë pulls off the rubber gloves and slides on a new pair, but these ones are made of leather, and in the dimmed lights Chris can see tiny points that sparkle in rows along each of the fingers and palm.

“Chris honey,” she says, but she keeps her eyes on Zach. “These are called Vampire gloves.” She reaches for Zach and gentle strokes his cock. Zach hisses, flinching and jerking in his restraints which cause the chains to clink against the frame.

Chris doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t need to, nor does he want to in case the spell Zoë’s managed to cast somehow breaks and he won’t be watching some of the hottest shit he’s ever seen. Fuck Karl’s movies, this is what’s turning his blood molten.

“Ah,” Zach gasps when Zoë squeezes him firmly in one hand. The other begins to tug at his nuts and though Chris can see it’s hurting him by the way he’s jerking against the frame, Zach’s cock has hardened in Zoë’s barbed hands. She tugs on him and slaps his balls, and though Chris is in complete awe of Zach’s control, he’s fascinated that his Coach is not pleading for mercy. Whatever his employer’s kinks may be, this one seems to be one of Zach’s. He’d assumed Zach would go through the motions of introducing him to whatever kinks his employer had on the list. It’s never occurred to Chris that Zach would have kinks of his own.

Then the cane comes out. Still wearing the gloves, Zoë stops stroking and gives Zach’s dick a meaningful whack. Zach cries out, bucks, his feet repositioning themselves as the force of his flinch almost unbalances him. Chris tastes the blood from his bitten lip, the one hand clutching his knee, while the other grips the chair’s arm. She does it again and though Zach’s cock is red from the prickly gloves, he can see the stripes of the cane appear. This is a harsher example; Zach’s fighting to maintain his control and clamps his mouth tight against the noises that punch against his lips. Chris can hear his muffled cries; stifled bleats while the sharp pain is inflicted to his tender shaft. Then Zoë’s back again with those wicked gloves and Zach gives a bark of pain when she clutches his balls and grabs his dick.

Chris hadn’t realized, because he can’t hear her, but she’s been speaking to Zach the entire time. Softly whispering encouragement, praising him for his endurance, explaining what she’s going to do next. It’s a soft stream of soothing comfort that Chris is heartened to hear in spite of not being able to understand fully, just the occasional word, like ‘good’ and ‘excellent’ and ‘well done’.

Zach is covered in a film of sweat, his hair already sticking to his temples and Chris can see he’s trembling. He’d like to tell Zoë to stop, but with his own dick pressing firmly against the seam of his pants he wants nothing more than to see how this will end.

She slips off the gloves and picks up a heavy chain that has a couple of balls attached at the ends that look like shot-puts. Zach suddenly begins to whimper, his head shaking.

“Zoë,” Zach whispers.

“What is the learning here Zachary?” she says kneeling in front of him and clamping the chains to his balls.

“That I can do it,” he says through his teeth.

“These are ball weights Chris,” she says, again not looking at him. “They will pull on Zach quite hard.”

He wants to see, God he wants to see. She stands, carefully takes the weight of the balls before moving her hands so Zach’s nuts take them fully. Zach groans and Chris has to take hold of himself through his pants to keep his own excitement under control. It does look painful, his sack stretching under the weight of the twin spheres that hang between his legs.

Chris feels the pity welling up in his gut when Zoë brings the cane out again, once more flicking it against Zach’s reddened and perhaps even bruised dick.

Zach grunts with each stroke, his teeth clenching and his eyes squeezed shut. He flinches with each hit and when Zoë flicks the tip against the head he cries out and pulls away. She flings the cane away and grabs his chin, pulling his face to her. Chris catches the power of her gaze and whatever she says to Zach he nods in acceptance.

The Vampire gloves go back on and she toys with his distended balls. Zach’s legs are trembling, shaking quite visibly as she pinches and plays with the purpled flesh.

“Zoë,” says Zach and Chris can tell his Coach is getting tired.

“Not yet,” she says firmly flicking her fingers against him, making his whimper. She grabs his dick and again he makes a soft, pitiful noise that increases when she runs her spiky fingers over the head of his cock. “Chris, come here honey.”

Chris jolts, he hadn’t expected to do anything but watch. He stands awkwardly, his erection prominent when he walks over to them. He glances at Zach and his heart goes out to his Coach. His lips are thin, pursed firmly under the strain of torture. His eyes lock with Chris’s and a flash of what Chris can only describe as loyal devotion roils through his gut. He wants to see more, watch his Coach tested and made to perform as he is now. Fuck, he looks so hot spread-eagled, his skin glistening, and his muscles all bunched in effort.

“You’ll see how red Zach is,” says Zoë pointing to Zach’s cock. “The vampire gloves have made it all the more sensitive, so when I flick him with the cane, the sensation is kind of amplified.”

“Okay,” says Chris both trying not to look at Zach’s dick and looking to see how his Coach is reacting to being scrutinized.

“These marks here,” she continues, indicating the stripes of the cane. They’re a deeper, angrier red, blending to a soft mauve at the site of impact. “They will be very sensitive and painful to touch.” She runs one of her spiky fingers gently over the tortured skin.

“Ah Jesus fuck!” cries Zach, pulling back as best he can, though it’s mostly ineffective.

“But overall they should calm and the skin will have healed in a day or two.”

“May he touch you Zach?” asks Zoë though she doesn’t look at him.

He doesn’t answer immediately until Zoë looks at him. “Fine,” comes the subsequent reply through Zach’s teeth.

“Feel free to touch Chris, no don’t worry about gloves, I want you to understand what this is doing to Zach’s body, because one way or another it will eventually be yours.”

Chris looks between them, Zach is watching him and he has to look away before he reaches and runs his fingers over the cane marks. Zach hisses but it’s then Chris sees the bead of pre-come welling at the slit. He pushes his finger into it and runs it across the head.

“Oh fuck, Zoë!” Zach gasps.

“Don’t you dare,” she says firmly. “See how he’s capable of taking the weight by his balls?” she says to Chris. She’s pointing, encouraging him to once again touch. Chris does, his fingers gently running over the extremely taut skin, the balls tight in their distended sac.

“Hnng, Zoë, please,” says Zach. “I can’t, not with him touching, please.”

“Don’t be so pathetic,” she says then leans in close, her heels bringing her level with Zach’s shoulder. “You were the best!” she whispers bitingly. “It’s Miles isn’t it?” Chris tries to keep his eyes on Zach’s tortured genitals, but occasionally gazes out the corner of his eye. He can see Zoë searching Zach’s face, looking for a reason her apparent top student is suddenly having issues with a little CBT. Chris kind of gets it having witnessed what he has, but he doesn’t know what Zach is capable of, or what he _had_ been capable of. “I now know what really happened Zach, but I would have hoped _you_ were going to tell me.” And even though she drops the volume of her voice, Chris can still hear. He takes his hand away and steps back, it’s getting awkward now.

Zach turns his face away from Zoë, his features like stone. “Not in front of him, just finish it,” he says. “Finish the lesson.”

“You don’t think he has the right to know? To understand what it can potentially mean for a Toy? I gave you the opportunity to tell him in my office, but you didn’t take it,” says Zoë, a hand gesturing towards Chris. She crosses her arms watching him, but he won’t meet her gaze. She grabs his jaw, forcing him to look at her. “And have you done anything by way of taking care of yourself? You need to talk to someone Zach, this burden you’re carrying will not only effect you, but your students as well.”

With a growl of frustration, Zach yanks on the chains. Chris suddenly wonders if this wasn’t part of Zoë’s plan; to string Zach up so she could question him about Miles, the student Zach had before him. The one Zach said hadn’t worked out.

“The lines you’ve drawn will only make _him_ suffer when he’s sent to the head of ST Industries half trained.” she says, her eyes fiery as she again points at Chris. “What happened to Miles should never happen to any of us, but that’s not our choice now is it? Chris needs to know and _you_ need to prepare him for it.”

Zach roars, pulling on the chains, his mouth open and emitting his anger and pain. “How do I train him or anyone for that?” he shouts. “You want fucking answers? Miles was trained, he was an exceptional Toy, loved it in spite of what it meant. I sent him to Universal, and a deal was made, some international bureaucrat with pockets deeper than the fucking ocean wanted the one thing we can _never_ prepare them for!” Spit flies from Zach’s lips, his face contorted in so much agony as tears wend their way down his cheeks. “How is it we’re still supplying Toys to execs who are so fucked up they think they can do anything they like?!”

Chris is genuinely frightened now. Though it hasn’t been said out loud he’s starting to understand what happened to Miles. He swallows hard, the pit of his stomach wrenching uncomfortably. He suddenly wants to go home.

“No, we can’t prepare them for that,” says Zoë, her tone still firm and unyielding. “But it’s obvious you have been blaming yourself all this time. That has to stop Zach, it wasn’t your fault you did your job.”

Zach seems to sag and it’s at that moment Zoë removes the ball weights and cock lock, then begins undoing the chains. “I never found out what really happened, what they did to him,” says Zach. With the chains removed he simply withers to the floor. “I just never saw him again.”

“Zach,” Zoë sighs. She crouches next to him and though he’s naked and she’s covered in PVC, they hug. “You need to talk to someone, please, you shouldn’t keep this to yourself.”

“We have to hide underground, ensure everything about us remains a secret and yet they have the ability to perform such a heinous act in front of anyone they want. Their money keeps them safe.”

“Just as secrecy keeps us safe,” says Zoë. She’s slowly rubbing his back over and over.

Chris’s mind is whirling with questions. It seems obvious that Miles is dead, and however he died it was at the hands of execs. He can only come to one conclusion and it generates a shiver of terror that lands solidly in his stomach.

 

Later in their room, Chris is lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, when the door opens. He sits up to see Zach whom Zoë had sent to the doctor since it’s routine after an intense session.

“Hey,” says Chris. Zach looks shattered, as though his world has not only been yanked out from under him but he was then forced to watch it burn. “Are you okay?”

Zach sighs. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

“Are you still angry?”

“Yes, but not because of the session, I know Zoë’s worried, but she doesn’t need to be.”

“Should _I_ be?” asks Chris.

Zach shrugs. “Being a Toy has it’s risks. I’m well aware that Miles’s fate isn’t the only time it’s happened. You hear stories, and most Toys should be able to live out their tenure and manage to retire comfortably.”

Zach’s words belie his expression. Chris can see the pain in his troubled eyes. “What happened to him Zach?”

His Coach looks out the window, sighs again, walks to the bathroom only to stop at the doorway. “I don’t know the details, but during his performance for the international exec he was killed.”

“Oh God,” whispers Chris, though he was more or less convinced of the truth. To hear it confirmed only makes the weight in his stomach that much heavier. “Are you talking about… about snuff?”

Zach still won’t look at him and seems to be staring at something that isn’t even in this dimension. “Yes,” he says under his breath.

“Fuck man,” says Chris unable to stop watching Zach, hoping that maybe Zach will say something has changed since, and Toys are no longer under threat of such atrocities. “Does it still happen?” He sees Zach’s hands ball into fists.

“His was the last incident I know of, and news of that caliber travels fast.”

“Zach, I’m so sorry,” says Chris wanting to go to his Coach and wrap his arms about him.

Zach shakes his head. “All I can do is warn you Chris, this isn’t something I can ever prepare you or train you for,” he says eventually turning from the doorway to face his student. “It’s never been a concern with ST Industries, and what happened to Miles was due to the visiting exec, not Universal. I’m more angry at myself, I should have known where he was, that he was walking into danger.”

“I guess some execs tastes are just unfathomable.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, it wasn’t my intention to withhold information from you, but how do you broach a topic like that?”

“It’s okay, I understand,” says Chris. “I mean, I don’t understand why it happened at all, but I get what you mean. I never would have thought such a kink was allowed.”

“It’s allowed,” says Zach putting emphasis on the word. “Because those assholes can get the fuck away with it. People like you, me and everyone in this fucking building are just commodities, things, possessions to own and treat however they see fit. If death is their motivation, then that’s their prerogative, regardless of the moral or ethical standing of it.”

Chris thinks of his family. If he were to die, would they manage without him? Being a Toy promises him more money than he’ll know what to do with. If they’re smart and save then if the worst was to happen his mom and sister should be able to live worry free in The Flats, and once Katie’s better she could eventually work again.  

“I’m not afraid,” says Chris though the trembling in his veins tells him otherwise.

“Don’t you even,” Zach snarls. “I won’t have you accepting that kind of practice as your own fate. If you so much as feel a twitch that something’s wrong you get your goddamn ass out of there, got it?”

“Oh,” says Chris. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could simply run away. “But won’t I be hunted down anyway?”

“Fuck no!” says Zach stepping up closer and planting a firm hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Jesus Christ, the first thing would be to haul ass here to Sinners. Zoë will ensure your safety and a call will go out to the other execs that a Toy’s life has been threatened. They can get away with it Chris, but not all of them condone it. Besides, given your current reputation you would find yourself under the wing of another exec in seconds.”

“Okay,” he says since he can’t think of anything else to say.

Zach goes back to the bathroom and closes the door. The shower starts and Chris lies back on his bed again, his hands behind his head resuming his stare at the ceiling. The knots in his stomach haven’t abated in spite of Zach’s assurance. Just knowing that someone died while doing his job, a job Chris is aspiring to, only generates that continual sinking feeling.

He suddenly remembers that Zach never got to come. He turns his head to look at the bathroom door with little doubt as to what his Coach is doing behind it. The shower eventually stops and Zach comes out with a towel about his waist and his hair damp and spiky.

“How you doing?” Zach asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” says Chris again sitting up. “I just never imagined… I just can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” says Zach and goes to the armchairs in the corner, sitting in one before motioning to the other. “We need to discuss tonight. I want to go through what I plan to do with you.”

“Sure thing,” says Chris with a nod. He sits in the other chair glad to see Zach’s expression is composed and he seems to be feeling better, in spite of the circumstances. It helps, knowing that things have gone back to relatively normal.

 

When they reach the Holy Room again Chris feels a surge through his dick and the collar tightens a little. It’s just the two of them. Given they will be on display Zoë said she would leave them to it.

 “I’m going to put you in the chains because I want the execs to have a full view and I can maneuver you a lot more easily,” says Zach. Chris nods and begins his yoga exercises. He’s improved quite a lot given he’s only been at it a week, it’s certainly become part of the ritual, he can feel his body begin to respond. He undresses; pulling off his tee, then takes off his jeans, exposing the tiny collar around his dick.

“Are we keeping the collar?” Chris asks.

“Yeah,” says Zach. “It’ll add to the effect.”

Among the chains is a leather harness. Zach helps Chris into it, fixing the straps across his chest, arms and thighs. Once hoisted, Chris will be in a seated position, his arms above his head and held apart by a length of wood. Secured, Zach checks the leathers then takes hold of one of the chains and gives it a hard tug. A series of pulleys takes Chris’s weight and he’s jolted upward, unable to control his position when the other chains and straps force his legs to spread, his dick and ass in full view.

“Perfect,” says Zach checking Chris is in the best position in front of the mirror. “Comfy?”

Seeing himself in the reflection Chris feels his face redden. He can see his collared cock and naked balls hanging in front of his ass, his legs parted in lewd want.

 “I think we’re ready,” says Zach and goes to the intercom to tell Jacob and Jimmy that the execs may come and watch, or tune in.

Chris instinctively flinches when Zach applies cool lube to his ass. The chains restrict his movement, there’s little choice but to accept all Zach had spoken about in their room earlier.

“I’m going to start,” says Zach. Chris nods and a sudden, sharp pulse spikes against the underside of his dick.

“Mm,” Chris moans through pursed lips. He hadn’t forgotten the collar, but he’d certainly forgotten what it was capable of. Zach begins to strobe the pulses of electrical shocks until Chris is jerking with each pinch of sensation. “Fuck,” he breathes aware his cock is beginning to harden.

“Very good,” says Zach. “I wondered as to the effect it would have on you. You respond with total subservience.”

Zach selects one of the toys from the wall that Chris can’t see and returns with a shiny, silver device. Small straps of metal create a cylindrical cage. Before Chris’s dick gets any harder, Zach clamps it around the shaft, the straps already tight against Chris’s shaft. He can already see the effect it will have, once fully erect his cock will have no choice but to bulge out from the restricting straps. The thought alone encourages his erection and sure enough he feels it tighten firmly around him.

Ok,” says Zach, presenting a huge butt plug that appears almost onion in shape. Chris isn’t sure is the same size, or larger than Zach’s fist. Lubricant is applied to the narrower tip, and though Chris tries, his position makes it difficult to accept the giant toy.

“Relax,” says Zach gently. “Intense as it will become, your body will accustom. Come on, let me get this in.” Chris breathes through his mouth, shuts his eyes and does his best to admit the unrelenting shaft of rubber. “Good,” says Zach when it inches in. “That’s it, open for it, take it in. Excellent Chris, you’re doing beautifully.”

“Oh fuck,” he cringes, his hands in tight fists in his desperation to relax and accommodate the plug. “Zach, it’s too big, please, it’s too big.” His ass is stretched to burning, and he can feel himself filling with the breadth that has already been inserted. He hears himself whimper.

“Come on now, we’ve barely begun,” says Zach. “You’re not about to bail out on a pathetic butt plug, it’s smaller than my hand.”

Chris feels the sweat run down his back. “Oh fuck,” he barks when the plug finally plunges all the way in, the flanged collar nestling firmly against his hole and taint. “I feel so fucking hard.”

Zach runs the tips of his fingers over Chris’s cock. The cage is in full effect, since Chris’s cock is a series of taut bulges along the length, the head a shiny purple bulb that Zach swirls his finger about in a teasingly soft gesture. Chris hisses through his teeth, the sensitivity of his tortured dick is tenfold.

“You’re extremely hard,” says Zach. “The fact that you’re so responsive is more than likely one of the reasons the execs are clamoring to view you. Like I said, let your body answer to the actions I’m taking.”

“Okay,” Chris pants. He can’t understand why he’s popular with the execs, but since he’s beginning to understand what they’re demanding of their Toys, perhaps the fact that he’s been handling everything Zach has dealt him is reason enough.

The large pillar candle is the same width as a soda can. Zach lit it the moment they entered the room. Chris knew this particular torture was coming, but didn’t think much of it until Zach is holding it up and by the light of the flame Chris can see the volume of melted wax that’s accumulated within the walls of wax that survived the heat. His breath quickens. Zach holds his dick perpendicular and tips the hot wax directly onto the exposed tip.

“Ahh!” Chris barks, jerking in the chains and breathing hard through his nose. “Jesus.”

Zach peels off the solidified wax and does it again, this time trailing spots of molten wax along the swellings and onto Chris’s balls. He cries out when the wax hits the skin of his scrotum, flinching as his balls clench under the sting.

“Easy,” says Zach. “You’re doing really well.” Over and over he drips wax onto the head only to peel it off and do it again. Chris becomes so sensitive his cries are getting close to becoming screams. His body shakes and the sweat on his forehead and chest gleams.

“Please Zach, please,” he whispers, until “Ah fuck!” when the wax coats his cock yet again.

“Last time,” says Zach, pulling the wax from him. “Well done.”

Though Zach had been thorough in his explanation, Chris can’t remember any of it. So when a sudden harsh prickle rubs over the reddened patches of his dick it makes him jolt in the chains.

“Ah, ow,” says Chris, his hips twisting in an effort to escape. Zach’s hands are covered by those sinister gloves Zoë had used on Zach earlier. Zach glides over the purpled flesh again and again while Chris keens loudly, his body jerking and trembling with each stroke. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants unsure if he’s trying to get away or spread his legs wider. The butt plug presses against his prostate and he can feel the build of orgasm in his tortured balls.

Zach stops, enabling Chris to catch his breath. His mouth is dry and his arms are beginning to ache. He feels Zach touching his balls again, something cold and metallic goes around one and is firmly tightened to the point of pain, then the other.

“Oh Jesus,” says Chris. The pain is on the cusp of being pleasurable and he can feel his cock harden all the more, a dribble of pre-come glistens from the slit. He remembers Zach mentioning the ball clamps, and hisses when the Vampire gloves are then applied to the taut flesh of his nuts. “Hnng!”

“That’s it,” says Zach, flicking his barbed fingers over the bruise colored skin while stroking Chris’s imprisoned cock again with the other.

“Oh fuck, fu-uck!” Chris cries bucking against Zach’s hand though his groin is in flames. He wants to come, but just before he reaches the peak Zach’s hand is gone. Chris looks for him and sees he’s holding a strange looking paddle.

“Ready?” asks Zach even though Chris knows he doesn’t have a choice.

“Do it,” he whispers and almost regrets it when the bug zapper touches the tight burning skin of his balls. “Ah fuck!” he cries, flinching and instinctively trying to bring his legs together. Again and again Zach brings the zapper into contact and Chris can’t stop the cries peeling from his lips, but incredibly he doesn’t reach for his safe word.

“Take it,” soothes Zach. His free hand gently caressing Chris’s thighs and lower stomach. “Come on, take that agony. Fuck you look amazing. The execs will be lapping this up.”

“Fuck Zach,” Chris bleats before another cry is wrenched from his throat. The opposing forces of Zach’s touch combined with the fierce sting of the zapper quickly sends Chris to the edge. “Zach,” he groans piteously, his body squirming in need. “Please, please, please.”

“Come if you need to, it’s okay.”

He does, loudly, and with his Coach still stinging his balls with the bug zapper his orgasm is intensified by the torture in his nuts. Zach stops in the moment before he finishes, and the waves of climax are left to wash over him.

“Show’s over,” says Zach. “I’m so very proud of you.”

“Thanks,” says Chris wearily.

Zach removes the cock and ball clamps, then carefully holds the butt plug so Chris can push it out. He’s lowered down and Zach quickly removes the restraints.

“Are you okay to stand?” Zach asks, a hand at Chris’s elbow. Chris is gripping one of the chains, his legs are trembling and he wants to sleep, he can feel it seeping in from the edges of his mind.

“I’m okay,” he says careful to look Zach in the eye.

Rather than dressing, Zach shrouds Chris in a robe explaining he’ll be going to the doctor for mandatory assessment.

“Sure,” says Chris. He’ll see the doctor, then perhaps eat, because he’s fucking starving, before he begs Zach to let him go to bed.

 

Chris doesn’t mind the doctor at Sinners, but he definitely prefers Alice. Doctor Pegg has a wicked sense of humor, but that only makes the situation all the more awkward as he gazes at the wax marks along Chris’s cock.

“Gives new meaning to Spotted Dick now doesn’t it?” says Pegg chuckling at his own joke.

“Excuse me?” says Chris. He’s leaning back while his dick is studied and then Dr. Pegg wants to assess his scrotum.

“Spotted Dick,” says Pegg again. “You know, the English pudding from the early twentieth century.”

“No, I don’t know,” says Chris.

“Well laddie, aren’t you missing a glorious treat. Full of currents and raisins and when my wife’s great granny came to stay, well, it left me full enough to burst!”

“Sure,” says Chris. The doctor’s jovial banter continues throughout the examination, while he prescribes simple aloe vera and advises Chris leave it be for a day or so. Chris smiles and nods when he leaves, thankful to have his twig and berries (another term Pegg referred to them as) back in his pants.

Zach is in the waiting room. “All good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” says Chris. “But I don’t know if that should be surprising considering what you put me through.”

“I am extremely skilled,” says Zach.

“From being a Toy yourself?” Chris asks pointedly.

“Let’s get something to eat. Did you want to go home, or spend the night here?” says Zach.

“I’ll spend the night here, then get home in the morning. I told my mom not to wait up, there’s been plenty of times when I didn’t get home until morning anyway.” He wants to ask again about Zach being a Toy, but it seems clear Zach’s avoiding the issue since Chris’s ignored question remains so until they’re back in their room.

The first thing Chris notices lying in a strange bed is the quiet. He can’t hear a thing. In the Styx you could hear everyone’s business, regardless of how discreet people were. It’s almost unnerving and it keeps him awake while he stares at the ornate ceiling.

“As I told you, I was trained as a Toy, but I never became one,” says Zach quietly from the other side of the room.

“Really? What happened?” Chris shifts and vague memories of sharing secrets at sleep overs fill his mind. It feels so long ago, as though he’s aged a century in the time between.

Zach rolls onto his side and they lay face to face, clutching their pillows and gazing at each other across the darkness. The single window affords enough gloom to see by, Zach’s eyes are black pools.

“There was a complication,” says Zach. “My employer died a few days before I completed my training. Zoë gave me the news and said I was now part of his estate and it would have to be decided who I was bequest to.”

“Oh wow, Zach, I’m so sorry.”

“It worked in my favor in the end. I was given the opportunity to become a Sex Coach which I’ve done ever since.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“I wouldn’t do it otherwise.” He yawns, loudly. “Get some sleep, okay? We don’t have to be up early but we both need the rest.”

“Sure,” says Chris. He rolls over to face the wall, his back to Zach, and it’s mere moments before he’s completely passed out.

 

End of Part 3


End file.
